A Title in Gondor
by Mrs L.Box
Summary: Therassa, the mistress of the Steward of Gondor has come to loathe her life. Being denied the friendship of his son Faramir and discovering her fondness towards the mighty Boromir, she realises that somehow she must break away from her world. (A prequel before Boromir goes to Rivendell, based on the movie renditions) BoromirXOC
1. Chapter 1

She was simply a maiden of the Steward, Therassa served him most loyally. A position she resented, it was her only comfort to assume that she would remain safe in the halls of Gondor, under the command of Denethor II. She did as he wished, and although she would've liked nothing more than to be a respected woman of the court, she seemed to only be viewed as the property of Gondors bitter, lonely ruler.

Therassa preferred the time she was able to gain alone, where she could wander and observe the land she lived in. She was grateful for all the privileges that she had in her status but unfortunately she could not forget there were the true emotions that she longed to feel for another.

Her master had two brave and heroic sons, Boromir and Faramir of whom she was rarely able to speak with. Truly, she was often forbidden to be in their presence; Denethor did not want her associating closely with his family. Those two lives were separated for some unknown reason. However, he was not able to stop her from conversing with them during the extravagant dinners that they were sometimes able to attend nor the banquets held in honour of their glorious triumphs. It was on one of these occasions that she finally realised that she was most unhappy with the circumstance she had found herself in.

She was so tired of her place.

Faramir, the younger of the two was a gentle being. He was thoughtful and kind to her and would not see anything wrong in talking to a maiden openly let alone his father's mistress. She passed through the crowds of merry soldiers, approaching the man without concern of her masters disapproving eye.

"My lord, I wish to congratulate you on your victory." Her silky blonde locks framed her pale face as she smiled fondly.

"Thank you, Lady Therassa. I believe that my father is overjoyed with our success; Boromir was a brave and inspirational leader." The fair-haired man took a gulp of his ale, searching the crowd for his father. Spotting Denethor, watching his brother proudly, he dropped his gaze and turned to the woman. He tried to shield his pain after, once again, he observed a look that he had never received from his father. "May I ask how you have been?"

"I have been well." she laughed at being asked. She was never asked. "We are all relieved you and Boromir have returned safely.

At saying his name a second time, a flutter in her heart surprised her. Glancing over at him as he sung with a group of others, she suddenly felt very exposed, as though all could read her thoughts. Not shifting her gaze, Faramir began to speak to her.

"We are also. I believe this merriment will continue for many hours to come. I will need more ale before I am able to rejoice as my brother does."

"Yes," Therassa nodded, slowly removing her stare from the Captain of the White Tower, to a man she could consider a friend, "I agree with you, I don't know if I should stay for much longer." Glancing over again, she could not find his face in the crowd. No distinctive features that resembled closely to his brother, no fine brown hair or handsome grey eyes. He seemed to have gone exploring the party. Or so she thought.

Unexpectedly, a firm arm flung itself about the shoulders of Faramir who stumbled slightly at his brothers' affectionate embrace.

"Brother, is this not a wonderful banquet? Nothing is more enjoyable than music and laughter." His deep voice and great physical stature never failed to intimidate Therassa as she observed the brothers. She'd always acknowledged that the two men were handsome and she was younger than them, her imagination would lead her to picture herself in courtship with them regularly. Perhaps this could have been true had she not become their fathers' property.

"My lady," she was disturbed from her thought as Boromir addressed her, stepping away from his brother and taking her hand. Perhaps it was the ale that had him kiss it gently before going on to say, "I will leave you and my brother alone, you must behave yourself Faramir." And with a booming laugh he strode off into the crowd, the rich cloth of his attire billowing behind him. Feeling belittled, Therassa turned her face from him and disheartened, sighed to Faramir, "I believe I will retire for the evening. Goodnight and congratulations. I will see you soon."

"Goodnight, my lady." He bowed his head slightly and she curtsied before leaving the hall and returning to her sleeping quarters that she did not share. She was granted her privacy to that extent, unless called upon.

She'd never responded so unusually to the man and it took her some minutes of thinking to understand that she wanted them to respect her. Of course the younger did but Boromir was not so inclined and it was his approval she would've liked most. This frustrated her greatly as she paced about her chambers in her elegant cream bed gown, running her fingers through her hair as she thought.

It was time to change things for herself. Women in Gondor, especially ones like her, were not being treated right. She had heard that elsewhere; there were women who were rulers equally with men, such as Galadriel of Lothlórien, the Lady of Light.

Maybe she would not be a ruler but she needed to be understood, but she did not know how to tell anyone of her wishes.

OOOoOOO

A couple of days after, she was at Denethor's side, as he spoke to her, "I would like to speak with you, tonight after dinner we shall."

She swallowed her concern, contorted her stomach, "Yes, of course." Shifting uncomfortably, she stepped back from him, and tried to keep her composure.

With an echoing boom, Boromir burst through the heavy, large doors, marching towards his father authoritivly.

"Father, what is this I hear? That you have not once congratulated Faramir who, without him at my side, we would've failed in our battle? What quells you from showing respect to your son?" The anger on his face was present, his eyes burned down on his father as he came to a halt before him. Denethor sat nonchalantly, observing the sudden outburst.

"Oh my boy," he waved a hand to excuse Therassa and the guards from the room.

"No!" Boromir barked, holding his arms up to command all to stay, not shifting his gaze from his father, "Why should this be a private matter when all present know of your lack of regard for the matter? They shall remain and hear your excuse."

This angered the Steward, who pushed himself up from his chair, closing in on his son who looked upon him in disbelief, "You cannot order my people in my court! I am in Stewardship and I have no reason why they should know of what you and I discuss. Everyone leave. Now!"

His voice thundered through the hall, she covered her ears as the sounds rung uncomfortably. The guards made their way to the door first. Therassa walked, trying to maintain her composure, past the two men only to be stopped by a large, rough hand grasping her wrist. Looking around, she saw Boromir holding her; he did not look away from his father.

"Why should _she_ not know? She is closer to you than anyone in this room. Perhaps it is her business? Do you know that she is friends with Faramir?" Denethors mouth twisted at this and his eyes flicked to her before returning to his son, growing ever more angered, "We know of his greatness, it is you who chooses to ignore it! Am I not right, lady Therassa?"

Blinking in disbelief, she gave Boromir a hard stare before tearing her arm from his hold. "Faramir is a good man, but it is not my place to intrude in your business." She spoke softly to him and tried desperately to disregard the furious eyes on her.

Leaving, Boromir could not explain the disappointment and pain. It did seem as though he was the only one willing to fight for his brothers' wellbeing.

OOOoOOO

Standing before the White Tree, a dread claimed Therassa's mind, knowing that her master would still want to talk to her and now the subject would be a greater distress to her. And it was not long that she discovered the Steward would be unable to wait until after dinner to speak with her. His fast, heavy footsteps approached and she turned as he seized her fore arm, leading her along to the very edge of the walk way that overlooked all of Minas Tirith and the threatening landscape beyond.

"I allowed you to speak to my sons, I allowed that! But to associate in friendship… and who do you think you are educating me on my family? You are just my mistress and you will always _be_ just a mistress!" he spat, scornfully not relieving his grip on her arm.

Crying out in pain, she tried to shake her arm loose but he grabbed the other with his free hand, holding them to her sides, trapping her, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"My Lord," she cried, "I never intended to 'educate' you. I also meant no disrespect in befriending Faramir, but it is no more than an acquaintance. You cannot deny me socialising with others."

"They are my sons, I do not wish for you to socialise with them!" he shoved her back and turned on his heel abruptly before coming to a sudden stop, "Oh, and I intended to tell you earlier that I had important matters to attend to for a couple of days and that you will be excused from my presence in that time. However, after this revelation that time may be extended for you." He continued on as she watched him, hugging herself, feeling the bruises he had just left on her skin.

He hadn't always been like this, once he was a good ruler, before she was born he was a happy married man. He was wise and valiant but after the death of his wife, Faramir only five years of age, he slipped into a bitter state of mind. Praising Boromir, his elder son and dismissing his younger, he also became short-tempered and on some occasions cruel. Therassa was there to amuse him, in his old age, something he would never have dreamed of doing when he was a younger Steward.

Yes, Denethor was a changed man, for the worse and the young woman had only known this part of him. Therefore she feared him. She seeked safety with the sons for she knew they were not so similar in temper to him. Faramir was like his father but they never had seen eye to eye, and Boromir… he was the strong and brave man of the family. She respected the sons of the Steward for allowing her security.

However, she doubted that her position would remain much longer, and if she was cast out from the walls of Minas Tirith, it would be a long and treacherous path to other cities. There was a small chance she would survive alone and that was the only thing that held her back from fleeing Gondor in search of a new life, a new title, to help the battle against evil and most of all be free of his control.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, she was, indeed, left alone. Very, very alone. There were not many she truly did associate with, either the true noblewomen looked down upon her or the poorer servants distanced themselves from her to avoid any trouble that all seemed to assume accompanied her.

Therassa sat in the courtyard, on a beautifully carved stone bench, in a long green gown that was prominent against the white décor. She looked up at the sky that never seemed to clear. There were always dark clouds looming, but rarely heavy storms.

Lost in thought, she felt ashamed of herself as her mind wandered to the touch of Boromirs hand on the skin of her wrist. The way he looked at her when she responded to his question, the frustrated disappointment that drowned his piercing eyes. Oh, how she wished she wasn't thinking of him. The woman wanted to brush it aside, as just a childish fancy. That it was her mind trying to come up with a solution to her overbearing loneliness.

But it would not work, she could not remove the man from her mind and she felt awful for not being able to say more in the defence of Faramir. She just could not.

Unaware she was studying her wrist as she began to think of most of her encounters with the warrior, she also failed to hear delicate footsteps approach. It was a voice that finally alerted her of the presence.

"You were of no use yesterday." Boromir growled through gritted teeth. He made her jump, and standing up, Therassa neatened her dress and curtsied. This was not required at a party but in situations like this, she had to.

"My lord." She gathered her wits and stared a hard stare to let the man know that she would not be belittled as she had so often been before, "What do you mean?"

"I believed that you would defend a friend but clearly you are just another who refuses to stand up to my father. I thought your opinion would urge him to change his ways, is he not fond of you?" he sneered, looking her up and down accusingly.

"Do you not understand that he is not so open to my opinion than he is to yours? You are favoured by him and I am just his object. What more could I say?" She sat back upon the bench, looking forward, finding that holding his gaze made her struggle to speak sense, "Now that you have revealed my companionship with your brother, I am in danger of being cast from Denethor's side. I have made it worse by even responding to your question yesterday. I fear my time in Gondor grows less. If I am forced away I do not know how I'll keep myself safe."

Feeling overcome with defeat, she put her head in hands and exhaled in exasperation, refusing to cry at her circumstances. Boromir watched her with pity before sitting beside her, waiting for her to recover from her momentary distress.

"I did not know of this incident." He sighed, guilt shrouding all anger he wanted to direct at her.

"You think I am just your father's whore." Sitting up, running her hands through her hair, Therassa shifted her stare to him, "I have no say or influence in any matters, I could never change his mind. I cannot even ask him for anything, not even for my freedom." She had not intended to say this and with a little gasp, she looked fearfully at him. With a flurry of apologies she stood to leave, curtsying quickly before trying to flee.

"Wait!" Boromir called after her, his alluring voice stopping her in her place. He strode warily towards her; anxious for her now, holding his hands up in gentle attempt to let her know that she would not be in any harm. He could see she was very distressed from what she had revealed.

"I am so very sorry," he spoke softly, coming to a stop just before her, she averted her eyes from him, "I have misjudged since I have met you. It seems I never considered that you were under my father's control and therefore unable to leave." Putting a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, with his other he tilted her head so that he could speak directly to her face, "Let me help you."

It had never happened before, her heart feeling as though it was filled with a warmth so overwhelming that she thought she would cry hopelessly. She longed to fling her arms about the warrior and hold him in thanks. She wanted to clutch desperately to him and feel his arms wrap around her and hold her safely, cradling her as he promised her the world, promised her over and over that he would help her.

Nodding her head gently, she murmured, "I want to be someone else, someone to be proud of."

He looked at her sadly, and put an arm about her shoulders as he led her inside, "Come, we can fetch ourselves some food from the kitchens and then I want to hear all about this and to do what I can." Willingly she walked beside him, concerned of what others would tell Denethor, she lifted his arm off her shoulders and said weakly, "To be seen this close to you would not be good, but I will happily accept your offer." A weak smile appeared on her lips and he grinned even though his eyes expressed his sadness for her.

OOOoOOO

"All I want is to be free of this place, to start again. Does that seem silly?" Therassa watched as Boromir popped another tomato into his mouth as he listened, lying on his side upon the grass of the beautiful, private garden space. Although some passed by them, they were not so apparent as they sat enjoying their brunch.

"It does not, if anything, I encourage your freedom. To belittle two people so close to him is intolerable. I wish my father was the loving man he once was, for Faramirs sake. However, my own bond with my brother is far greater; I have been the one to defend him, always, from disapproving men. Now I must assist you, break off this occupation of yours." He offered her a grape which she declined, watching him fondly. He seemed unaware of how thankful she was. He simply did not want any more people being hurt by his father's actions.

Neither spoke for a few moments, Therassa watched idly at the blades of grass swaying in the light breeze. Boromir finished the last of the food and rubbing his hands together he sat up, extending his legs in front of him and bending them slightly so that his arms could rest lazily on his knees.

"You are kinder than I initially thought." She said, finally.

"I am?" there was a glimmer of a smirk on his attractive face.

"Yes, I knew you and your brother differed greatly but your souls are good." she, watched him intently, not sure what he would say, or how he would feel. His face dropped and, shyly he glanced about them at the few remnants of their little meal.

"I have business to attend to… come." They both stood, and he looked down upon her, taking her forearms gently. She hissed in pain as he accidentally placed too much pressure upon the bruises Denethor had placed there the day before. He seemed concerned, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, it is just bruising I have. I was clumsy yesterday."

He looked at her sceptically before saying "I will do whatever I can to get you away from Gondor. I will not have long as fathers business will be done within a few days, but I will make it my duty. What I want most for you is that you are granted with the chance to start again."

Trying to fight the urge to sob in his arms, she nodded bravely, taking a deep, shaky breath, "Thank you, my lord."

"Do not thank me. Good day to you, I shall come and find you tomorrow and inform you of my accomplishments in the matter. Meet by the fountain. May you be safe, Lady Therassa. And please, use my name. I have heard you use my brothers." He grinned radiantly and strode off, quickly before someone did notice them.


	3. Chapter 3

That night, she was summoned to the Stewards bed chambers. Therassa could not help but pity him as he stood awaiting her arrival, a pain prominent in his eyes, lost in deep thought. He did not seem angered as he had been when she had last seen him although she remained wary of his silence. Standing in the entrance, the door shut behind her, she watched him, he seemed to not register her presence completely.

"My lord," she spoke softly, remaining in her place.

He glanced idly at her, raising his eye brows acknowledging her, "Therassa…" he brought a balled up fist to his mouth, "Come here." he held a welcoming arm towards her and she glided over, afraid to appear hesitant.

"What is the matter?" her voice remained gentle, her soothing tone a mask for her frustration that she was not away from Gondor. Denethor reacted to her tone, idly outstretching his hand to her cheek, caressing it with a weak, slow movement. She tried not to shudder at his touch.

"My dear, dear Therassa…" she was concerned now, he had been in moods similar to this before but never had it led him to be so absent. This attitude, his silence was unnerving.

"Are you well my lord?" voice hushed, she put her hand gently on his wrist, "Do you want me to fetch a healer? You look unwell."

"No," he finally seemed to recover from his trance, "I am fine. I am no longer angered with you, but may you be warned if I hear you interfere in my family matters, you will be removed from Minas Tirith." The look she was very used to had returned to his eyes. She knew why he had been the way he was when she had entered. He still grieved his wife's death so many years ago, it was clear he was still haunted by her memory. Few occasions when she had been summoned, he had fallen into these states which would pass within seconds of occurring. This was why she was fearful this time, there was a sickly colour to his skin, his mind seemed to be tormenting him.

"I understand." Therassa nodded.

With a twisted smile, he placed his hands on her shoulders and leant in to kiss her, his lips dry. It was a desperate kiss and the woman had to shield her reluctance and return it gratefully.

"I would like your company this evening," his voice was authorative and with a look of acceptance, she did what was expected of her.

OOOoOOO

Boromir did not appear the next day. In fact, she did not see him for a few days. She sat in the library one morning, having been excused by Denethor again. Faramir accompanied her, offering to educate her on histories of their lands. He had been taught of many wonderful things by the great wizard, Gandalf the Grey. Therassa had met the man many times before, and she was fond of him as Faramir was. He had a way of seeing into a person's soul, seeing past the protective cloak that was worn by humans every day and recognizing the potential of them. He'd told her never to lose hope and she didn't, whenever she came close she thought of him. She missed Gandalf; she hoped that one day she may meet him again.

As Faramir began to explain the elven lords to her, his brother strode into the library, seeing them instantly at the table, with a book between them. He seemed taken aback by Therassas' presence and faltered before continuing towards them.

"What is it brother?" Faramir glanced up at him, the woman watched him also, aching that he had never met with her again. That she was left unsure if she would actually receive the help that had been offered.

"My lady," the brother nodded to her before answering the other, "father and I have been making arrangements for me to go away to Rivendell."

The look upon Faramirs' face was one of hurt; he looked at his brother knowing that he was forced to go and that he would rather stay for Gondor.

"He refused to even consider my offer." Was all he could say, spitefully.

"I will leave in three days; it allows me time to prepare for my long journey. I hear it is almost impossible to locate the place. It will be a hard passage. I had rather take this burden than allow you to go."

Stunned, Therassa realised that the chances of her leaving may have reduced. Even worse, a spasm of fear jolted through her body at the thought of Boromir leaving. She didn't think that she could respond so but she did, her heart ached and she looked away from him.

"You are good, but foolish." There were tears in Faramirs eyes; he did not allow them to overcome him. Standing from his seat, he embraced him.

"I'm sorry," Boromir spoke with a hushed voice and then let him go, holding at arm's length, "But you staying here, you will be able to help me."

"In what?"

"In fulfilling Therassas' wish to leave," he looked about to be assured no one was listening, and then addressing the woman, "I did not forget, I apologise for failing to meet with you. However, this time has granted me a chance to consider the possibilities."

Faramir turned to look at Therassa in her seat, who rose slowly, astonished by this turn of events. He didn't seem surprised, his eyes lit up, he was happy for her.

"I will do all I can, you are my friend and deserve the greatest future." Faramir was now smiling, not the brightest but he was seeing a good thing come from the quest.

"Boromir, Faramir," she looked between the two of them, becoming excited by the prospect, "How can I ever repay you?"

"You are not in my debt," he watched her face; his eyes reflected something that she struggled to interpret.

"Nor mine," Faramir grasped her hand in his and squeezed it with reassurance.

"Now," the other began, "brother, I require you to find some way of sneaking her from here; I know your mind is wiser than mine. You can solve this, we _need_ your mind."

He accepted this duty with an understanding nod; Therassa could not take her eyes from the man as he spoke. His tall, commanding appearance looked outstanding as his compassionate, loyal nature shone through regally.

"I will begin now, there are very few here who will aid us but they will be sufficient." Faramir turned to her. When he spoke directly to her she was able to shift her gaze to the younger man, "We can continue our lesson someday, hopefully when you are far from here." he grinned sadly at the thought, and went to pick the book they'd been reading on the table, handing it to her, "I think you should keep this, a reminder that we shall see one another again and of our unfinished business." She took it thankfully. He strolled off, clearly set on completing the task at hand, willing to tend to Boromirs' request.

"I'm so very sorry that I did not meet you, I intended to arrive but my father called upon me and I could not disobey. I knew that he wanted me to go to Rivendell but up until now I had demanded not to. Now I see that it is for my people, and for you. I think we may be able to get you away undetected with me."

Therassa nodded and seeming incapable of controlling her emotions, she flung her arm around his broad self, head against his chest, book held to her heart in her other arm. He stumbled back in surprise before wrapping his arms around her too.

"I am so very grateful," she murmured against him.

Unfortunately, she had to pull away and with a shy smile, she left the library too. Boromir stared as she went, still feeling sorry for her after her terrible time as the mistress of his father. He loved his father and so did Faramir, which was peculiar even after the treatment he received. But he would despise all he did, how he was with Therassa, how she lived in Minas Tirith being derided by those he associated with. He would not stand for it any longer. Therefore he was going to get her away. However, Boromir did not understand that there was more to his intentions towards the woman.


	4. Chapter 4

"I wish to hold a banquet, no large gatherings but a pleasant going away dinner for my son. I will not see him for quite some time." Denthor stated this as he lounged in his chair, it was after noon and Therassa tried to refrain from grinning foolishly since the news of that morning.

The planner before the Steward seemed at ease with the demands; it was not so difficult as had been required in previous years. It seemed everyone was more relaxed due to the changed nature in their master, his spirits had lifted at the revelation that Boromir would go to the council of Elrond in Rivendell. Only they knew of the details of the task.

"Tonight," Denethor reached for her hand, "I require your company." A vile smile grew on his face.

"Of course, my lord." Her spirits were dampened then, she swallowed back her unhappiness, "I serve only you."

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her hand, "You bring a smile to my face, Therassa. I do not regret my choice in you." He did not let go of her, even when his son Boromir sauntered in.

He seemed repelled by the scene before him, "Father," his voice was strict as he refused to observe his father handling a woman so possessively.

"Ah, my favoured boy," standing for his son, he still clutched her hand.

"I wish to speak with you," glancing at Therassas' face, who appeared troubled as the Steward held her, "alone."

"Of course." He grinned brightly, and turning to her, he held her face between his hands and kissed her slowly but hard. She felt her brow knit together in discomfort. He finally ended it, bellowing, "You are excused."

Boromir and his father both watched her leave, the son more conspicuous as he did so, his mouth hard, maddened by him. Therassa locked eyes with the younger man and she only hoped that he understood how thankful she was of his arrival. That piercing stare made her stomach flutter, her legs felt weak but she couldn't smile to him no matter how much she wanted to show that happiness that he was bringing her. He could not even nod at her.

"What does my son need of me?" was the last of what she heard before the heavy doors were shut behind her.

OOOoOOO

Dawn. Lying beside Denethor, she had to get away from him. He wouldn't be angered by her leaving, he preferred her to be gone from his chambers by the morning. It wasn't long before she learnt that he felt guilt. He knew what she was to him was wrong.

Wandering back to her room, in the gown she'd been wearing the day before, she was surprised when she met with one of the guards whose name she did not know.

"Good morning," he grinned, his mouth twisted unattractively, "It is rather early to be up and about." He knew who she was, everyone knew who she was. He was dressed rather casual for a guard, he did not have his weapons or armour, his sandy hair was at his shoulders but appeared messy as though he had not been up long.

"Good morning." She tried to continue onwards but he stood in her way. Her instant reaction was to glare at him, "Please, let me pass."

"Ah, but my lady, will you not allow me to propose this request to you?"

She did not trust him, the way he spoke or acted. The last thing she would want to know from him was what he requested. "I wish to return to my chambers, let me pass." And once again she made to go around him but he stopped her.

"No, no," he put an arm about her shoulders, locking her in his grip, leading them to an unused room a few steps from where they were. Shoving her through the door way, he shut it and turned to look at her, not allowing her passage to exit. The sunrise did not reach this room fully, with only orange rays making thin lines on the far wall. The rest of the room remained dim. "I think you could do me a favour, why should Denethor have you all to himself?"

Slowly approaching her, Therassa tried to retreat, stumbling as she went. Her panicked gaze did not leave him, frightened of what may happen.

"Get away or I shall tell the Steward-"

"Of course you won't, if you do he will not believe you." She could no longer move any further back; the wall was behind her, a window to her left and right. There was no way she could escape that way, the fall would kill her, and there was nothing to hold onto.

"Let me be!" her voice shook with fear and she turned her face from him, feeling his hands grasp her hips roughly, his ragged breath on her face. Squeezing the skin, feeling bruises would arise, she cried out in pain.

A hand was shoved forcefully over her mouth, and looking at him, eyes wide, he hissed, "You make another sound…" he did not finish his threat, he would not be able to do much to her if she did.

Therassa would not accept what he intended to do, and refusing to give in, she struggled against him. Shoving at his sturdy body did not move him; he had prepared himself for her resistance. She swatted his hand from her face and managed to twist herself from him, tripping over his foot as she tried to get away from him.

Landing on her side she tried to fight the ache in her shoulder from hitting the floor so suddenly. She couldn't lie there long for he would've continued his advances much easier from there. He was now swooping down taking full advantage of the situation.

Managing to crawl forward, she headed for the door. However, just as she was about to get to her feet the guard grabbed her ankle, yanking her towards him. Gasping, she looked back at him and with the leg he did not hold, she shoved her foot into his face.

Seeing his bloodied nose, she heard the crack of bones breaking and as he clutched at his face, groaning in pain, she ran to the door. Flinging it open, she fled.

OOOoOOO

Therassa did not leave her chambers for many hours, frightened of who else she may encounter. For once she did not care if the Steward missed her at his side; she did not care for those consequences. She did not know who she could tell of the advances that the guard had made, and as she sat upon the window seat, occasionally glancing at the book Faramir had given her that sat on the end of her bed, she could not stop thinking of what may have happened to her. She was frightened.

Long after breakfast had been served to Steward and his kin was she able to finally change her gown, the new one a hazy blue colour, and leave the room. She had not tended to her hair as neatly as she usually did and she had not slept all night. Weary and cautious, she made her way down to the kitchens, careful not to run into anyone along the way. She could not deny that she was peckish; it would make her feel and think better if she had something in her stomach.

The kitchens were large; there was the hustle and bustle of the cooks to prepare the lunches for the noblemen and women. She hovered in the doorway before a kindly woman noticed her, surprised by her appearance.

"My lady, how may I help you?" this woman could see Therassa's tired eyes and fearful face and reached for her arm gently, leading her to the wooden table in the centre of the room. Food cluttered most of the space, in the middle of being prepared but she cleared space for her, and sat her down on a tall stool.

"You are the Stewards mistress?" she said, her voice hushed and caring.

"Yes," Therassas' voice was weak, "I missed breakfast and I thought that, perhaps, I may be able to get something to eat?"

"Well of course," beamed the woman reassuringly, "What do you feel like? I can make you whatever you want."

"I do not mind, whatever is easiest." She did not want to disrupt their work.

"How about bacon, eggs and tomatoes? With some tea?"

Therassa nodded enthusiastically, not realising the full extent of her hunger until that point. The woman went ahead cooking, there were others about preparing their lunch who bantered occasionally with the woman and each other but she sat patiently, feeling better in the company of the kindly cook.

At last the food was placed in front of her, and thanking her, smiling gratefully she tucked in, sipping the delicious tea occasionally.

"So tell me, what's happened to you?" the cook eyed her, concern was the cause for her questioning. It took Therassa a moment to consider her answer.

"I had a difficult night; I did not sleep at all."

"What, you and he were-"

"No!" she was shocked by the casual suggestion, "No, I did not stay in his room. I just had a troubled night, I could not sleep." No matter how lovely the cook was being, she could not tell her of the guard. It didn't seem appropriate to tell, she was still unsure of anyone who should know. She did not want people to believe she lied.

The cook knew there was more to it; there was no excuse to have such a wary stare in her young eyes. But she did not want to pry. "My name is Cauwen. I'm here for you to talk to whenever, it's not healthy to bottle thing up, my lady." She smiled and squeezed her shoulder, before tending to the lunch she still needed to prepare.

"I will remember that and please call me Therassa." She continued eating, listening and enjoying the conversations between the staff.

As she came to the end of her meal, a figure appeared in the doorway from the corner of her eye. Startled, she lifted her head to see who was entering the room, praying it wasn't the guard. When she saw it was Boromir, she let a sigh of relief.

He did not notice her at once, but as he neared her he looked surprised by her presence.

"Where were you this morning? We were concerned." He observed her face, also aware of her appearance, the dark rings about her eyes were sad to see.

"I did not rest well." She stated it simply, placing her cutlery down and sipping the tea she still had, "I thought it be best I eat though, keep me healthy. What are you doing down here?" she watched him curiously.

Bending down and leaning close to her, he murmured, "I am here on business concerning your departure." And standing up straight again, he approached a male cook whose name she did not know but was closest to the two of them, "Excuse me, I wish to speak with Cauwen."

"Of course my lord, she is right there." The nervous cook pointed to her as she stood over a boiling pot.

Nodding in thanks, Boromir approached the woman. Therassa was not surprised that the one who would help them was Cauwen; she was relieved that it was someone she knew was good.

"I must speak to you, Cauwen." He sounded intimidating, which she knew was acted so as to not make the staff suspicious.

Turning, seeing the warrior, towering over her, she muttered, "Of course." And she followed him from the room. Leaving her seat, Therassa followed, thanking the servants for allowing her to be present as they worked before going.

Along the dark corridor, the candlelight dim, she spotted the two who acknowledged her presence before continuing their discussion.

"Faramir sent me; he tells me you are trustworthy." The man said, his voice gentle.

"I know, he has told me of your plans. I will do all I can to help this woman go." She glanced at Therassa sadly.

"We are grateful. Now my brother is preparing a plan for us, which will be difficult to execute."

They stood pondering for a moment before Therassa spoke, "The greater issue is that your father may want me at his side as you leave. We must find some reason for my absence at that time."

"Hmm, by tonight, Faramir should've thought of something and then we shall meet again to discuss how we shall do it."

"Meet here," Cauwen said authoritivly, not concerned who was superior out of the three, "The kitchens will be empty of the others, we will conduct our meeting at midnight." And with that she hurried away, knowing that she was falling behind on the next meal.

"We will talk later," his brow was furrowed as he looked at her face; he wanted to know what she was hiding, why she appeared so unnerved. He knew when people did not reveal the truth, he'd seen the expression countless times, "For now, my father will be wondering where you are." Therassa nodded and left, feeling slightly disheartened that they could not speak longer. She knew it was he who she would report to, he would listen. Maybe he would do something about the guard. She did not know, but she anticipated the meeting tonight, the there was a reality about the plans that was not present before.


	5. Chapter 5

Tired and worn out, Therassa sat up in her bed waiting for midnight, relieved that the Steward had not called upon her. She watched her door suspiciously in case the guard made for a second attempt but nothing of the sort happened. She was willing to lose sleep to know more of the escape plans.

Finally when it seemed time to leave, she staggered drowsily to the door, looking both ways before hurrying as fast as her tired legs would go to the kitchens. Once or twice she hid and waited as the guards passed, not wanting to be a victim. She knew not all of them were like the one she encountered but for now she could not distinguish the good from the bad.

Arriving, she was pleased that the others had already arrived; she would not have wanted to be left alone. Two candles burned on the centre of the vast wooden table which had now been cleared of most of the cluttered food that claimed it that morning. They saw her, Farmir was first to speak, "Take a seat, we were wondering where you had gotten to."

"I was very cautious." She sat at the very stool she'd been on earlier, receiving anxious looks from the others.

"My brother," Boromir tried to enlighten Therassa of the current affairs, "He has found a way. It seems so obvious now." he looked proudly at his brother, who seemed to blush at the praise.

"I realised that you and he would have to leave at separate times, for Boromir will be watched and praised as he goes. He will leave after lunch, father's wishes. This in mind, it will be easier for you to make your exit as most will be too concerned with his leaving. You will come down here where Cauwen will help disguise you in less conspicuous wear, which will also be suitable for travelling. From then it will get harder as Boromir will have to wait for you across the plains which will be treacherous. You should be unnoticed as you go, not far behind my brother."

"I will pack supplies for you," Cauwen said, "Fortunately, one of the stable boys who is most trustworthy, will prepare a horse for you. No one shall notice and by night, you and my lord will be far from here."

"And," Boromir looking at them all, pride apparent as their plan began to fall into place, "on my way to Rivendell, you shall be taken safely to the nearest town away from Gondor." Therassa looked at each one of their faces one at a time, and overwhelmed with joy she began to laugh.

Her smile ached her face, it was so wide and she said breathlessly, "This is wonderful, you have all made such an effort. We have one full day left of preparation, I don't know how I will bare It." she would've cried had she not been so intolerably happy.

They continued on explaining the details of the plan, exact times, what she would need with her. Faramir would grant her a dagger for some defence, even if she had no skill in using it. However, she would not get these until she retrieved her pack from Cauwen.

An hour past and it was decided, and they all went their separate ways. Boromir escorted Therassa back to her room. They were careful for if they were seen together, the woman would most certainly be reported.

At her door, her back to it, glancing uncertainly both ways to be certain no one was about, he whispered, "Goodnight lady Therassa, rest well." He seemed to shift slightly, meaning to go.

"Boromir," he stared at her curiously as she murmured, averting her eyes timidly, "Why do you help me?"

"You know why, I cannot let someone of your sweet nature be degraded to nothing more than a disposable servant. You are much more." Her bruises had cleared from her arms by now, so as he placed his hands there, she did not wince.

"How do you know I am? Before now, I spoke more to your brother. I had only ever greeted you whenever we met; I cannot recall a single, real, conversation between us before the triumphant battle. There are so many more here that deserve freedom more than I." These thoughts were only dawning on her as they discussed their scheme, she realised how fortunate she was. Feeling guilty she had to understand what it was that persuaded the man. He, who used to dislike her who she was, beside his father, believing her to be just a whore who was seeking the power that Denethor would supposedly grant upon them. These beliefs were untrue to the facts of the matter.

"I believe in taking you away from this humiliation." He tilted her face so that he could see her eyes, encouraging her to look at him, "And I do care for you greatly, I only wish for the best."

Her heart fluttered and she gazed open mouthed at him, his words replaying in her mind. Before Therassa could respond, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Still in awe of what he had said, lost for words, but longing to say something, she watched panicked as he looked about them. Opening her door for her, he ushered her in.

"Goodnight," he whispered again, he had a grin on his face as though the excitement of the secrecy was rather enjoyable.

That grin was infectious; she smiled back to him, not so concerned they would be caught when she saw his expression, "Sleep soundly Boromir."

She held the door, slowly closing it, peering out at him, "Shut the door." he chuckled.

She did and heard his step as he went along the corridor. Leaning against the wood, silently, she felt disappointed that he had gone.

OOOoOOO

Nightfall, the next day. Therassa was on her way to the banquet hall from her chambers, where she had changed into a more elegant, handsome, midnight blue gown with silver embroidery at the hems. Her hair tumbled down her back, with a beautiful headband to accessorize her attire. She'd made more of an effort than ever before, the formal occasion encouraging her to dress charmingly. Although, she suspected that she may have been attempting to impress the captain of the White Tower as well.

In her present contentment, she seemed to have forgotten most of her worries so as she wandered casually to the hall, she was shocked when a grimy hand grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly aside.

She knew who it was, and with a twist in her stomach, a lump in her throat, she was unable to cry out in fear. The guard placed a hand over her mouth, in case she would finally scream, leading her off to a vacant area of the courts, secretive and, in the night, terrifying.

"It's time we had a little chat, you filthy whore!" he spat as he shoved her against the stone walls. The impact winded her, she struggled to breathe through her nose deep enough to gain control of her airways. She saw his swollen nose, crooked and the bruising still slightly purple; she'd successfully broken it.

Inhaling her scent, her perfume, her clean hair, he snickered, "These are different circumstances, perhaps we may finish what we had begun." He removed his hand and placed an aggressive, forceful kiss upon her lips, her head was being grazed upon the wall. Gnawing upon her lip before pulling away, she hissed, she could not disguise the shake of her voice, "We? Get away from me you pig!"

"Come along," he combed his fingers through his hair, before jerking at the ends, "If you keep your mouth bloody shut for more than a minute, perhaps I will not tell anyone of your depraved advances towards me."

Disgusted, she slapped him. In response he forced her arms against the walls, her sleeves rising in the movement, grazing her wrists upon the stone. He was going to shield her mouth again when she saw fingers curl around his arm.

Dragging him off of Therassa, Boromir led him away from her, she edged about the brawl that was about to commence. The warrior grabbed the front of his shirt and swung a right hook into the face of the guard. He stumbled, but he was not released from the grasp of the other man.

"You bastard!" Boromir snarled, as he took the guard by the shoulders and kneed him in the stomach and then threw him to the ground, "I want you from my sight and leaving Minas Tirith tonight."

Picking him up, he shoved him away from them, Therassa hurrying to Boromir's side. The other man turned to see the two of them and smirked, "Surely you do not have that power?"

"I do, as Captain. If I ever see your face again, you will receive severe punishment. Go!"

The guard seemed to understand the burning fury in Boromirs voice and fearfully scurried away. They knew he would not stay now, being on the bad side of someone of such power.

Therassa was dazed, unmoving. A large, warm, reassuring arm wrapped about her shoulders. Boromir hugged her closer to him with the other. She did not hug back, she couldn't, she just relished in that secure grip.

"Therassa," he spoke softly to her, "Let us get you cleaned up and then we can go to the banquet."

She let him walk her to her quarters, seating her on the window seat once in her room. He took the towel and basin that had been laid aside by the chambermaids for her to wash before bed, and placed it beside her. Kneeling before her, he observed her face, checking for any marks. Fortunately she had just a red mark upon her cheek that would clear quickly.

Taking her hands into his, he found the bloodied wrists, and sighed loudly, annoyed that she had visual, long term injuries from her encounter. Wetting the towel, he began to wipe away the blood that was beginning to dry.

"You will not have to change your dress." He tried to be light-hearted but knew it would be useless. Therassa smiled weakly, not reflecting in her eyes.

"What a relief," she fought not to cry as a wave of fear washed over her, as she had felt the first encounter with the guard. To distract herself from breaking down, she watched Boromir wipe away the remaining blood, he was focused on his task.

"Thank you," she whispered, not able to speak any louder.

"What have I said, do not have to thank me. I only protected you from that beast, it is my duty." He glanced up, before raising her wrists to see them in a better light, to see if they would be able to go unnoticed.

"I was-" her voice trembled and she couldn't continue.

Placing the towel in the basin, rolling her sleeves down, covering the grazes that were beginning to heal and looking at her at last, all attention on her, he couldn't disguise the pain in his eyes. His father was not her only threat.

"That was not the first time." Boromir had known something was wrong with Therassa. She had appeared terrified the day before. And when he had heard voices on his way to the banquet, he went to investigate. The way the guard had spoken to her alerted him that he was vengeful; seeing his wounded face, he knew that she had defended herself.

She shook her head, "He- he's tried to but I stopped him. I hoped he would not try again." She took his large hands, feeling the rough, skin and gentle touch, squeezing them. He did not mind, letting her continue, observing her face, "He said that if I had fought him this time that he would tell Denethor that I had initiated it." Her lip quivered as she spoke, and looking down at their hands, she fought back the tears that were now on the brink of spilling.

Removing his hands from her, he adjusted her headband and brushed her hair back from her face. At last she could not hide her emotions anymore and with a sob, she wrapped her arms around his neck and cried. He ran his hand down her back, soothing her, murmuring, "Why didn't you tell me about him? You could've come to me."

"I was so frightened. If-If you had not be-been there in time, he could've…" burying her head into his shoulder, his body tensing as she broke down in his arms, unable to stop her crying.

"You're safe, Therassa. You're safe." He hushed her, hurting as he heard her sobs.

They sat like this for several minutes before she pulled away, rubbing at her eyes desperately to remove the tears from her face. "I'm sorry," she said feebly.

"There is nothing to apologise for." He placed a hand on her cheek. Standing, he then held out his arms. She took his hands and he pulled her to her feet, "They'll be wondering where we are,"

She nodded in disappointment, but before leaving she neatened her dress, smoothing down the creases and adjusting the sleeves, "How do I look?" she wrung her hands awaiting his response.

"Exceptional," he beckoned her to go with him and they made their way to the banquet hall, at last.


	6. Chapter 6

"You are late Therassa," he leant close to her ear, threateningly. Although Denethor had demanded for a family banquet but his pride of his son overcame him and the long wooden table was filled with food and noblemen and women. They laughed and joked, waiting patiently for Boromir to arrive and take his seat at the opposite end of the table from his father, who was at the head of the banquet. Therassa, sat beside him, Faramir was beside her. The steward had conveniently placed some stunning noblewomen near Boromir, an attempt to amuse him on his last night in Minas Tirith.

"I am so very sorry my lord, I did not intend to be so late." She watched the door conspicuously.

"You are a woman, I am not so surprised. You can make up for it another time." the Steward purred. With a shudder she looked down at her empty plate, pretending to admire the fine designs upon it, as she hid her expression at being insulted for her gender.

People were restless for Boromirs' arrival. She and he had decided not to arrive together and he was to wait a few minutes before entering himself.

As he did, all stood for him, even Denethor who seemed to brighten at his sons' arrival, "My treasured son!" he chortled; his arms open wide in his welcoming, "At last!"

Faramir gazed upon his brother proudly but Therassa could see his body flinch at his father's words. Trying to go unnoticed, she placed a hand on his lower back reassuringly; he looked at her and smiled sadly.

"You may all sit." Denethor boomed, and then when he was comfortable he raised the goblet high, "A toast, to Boromir! May he succeed upon his quest and bring Gondor its glory!"

"To Boromir!" They all chanted, copying his actions.

Boromir looked across all the faces and saw, most prominently, the beaming grin of Therassa, she seemed to appear in slightly brighter spirits now. Feeling satisfied that he was able to comfort her; he gave a gentle discreet nod towards her before exchanging looks with his father. He could not smile to him, not after all he had done to the two people he cared most about.

"Tuck in" and Denethor began, the others following him as he picked at the food before them. Therassa knew why she had been placed beside Faramir, she was not allowed to talk to him and it was only here that the Steward would be sure that they did not communicate; furthermore he did not want his sons beside one another. It seemed that if it was a convenience to him, then others inconvenience was not significant.

As he drunk more and more wine, Therassa was becoming hopeful that he would be too drowsy to demand her to his chambers for the last time. If she could go this night without sharing a bed with the vile man, she would feel very grateful indeed.

Occasionally she would glance down at Boromir who seemed to be enjoying himself. However he disregarded the advances of the young, beautiful women beside him, seeming to exchange banter with those about him and nothing more.

Faramir was very quiet, barely touching his food, not talking to many people and as he and the woman could not speak, they were both very lonely. Denethor had a habit of reaching under the table, with a greasy hand, and grasping her knee as he ate, not stopping conversation with the man to his other side.

Unexpectedly, during the middle of the meal, Boromir stood. Everyone stopped eating and looked up at him.

"Father, my friends, Faramir. I wish to make a toast of my own." Taking the goblet in his hand, Therassa and others did too.

Drunkenly, Denethor mumbled, "Go ahead, my boy."

He had not asked for his father's approval and disregarded the consent, "It is tomorrow that I leave, to attend a council that will discuss the state of the world's affairs. I will not only go to represent my father, but also Gondor. There are many who have faith in me, a faith that I hope I will find in myself," he stared at Therassa then, "I do not regret my decision as I am only doing what is right for my people. My heart is for my people."

Placing her hand over her chest, thoughtlessly, she gazed upon him, her eyes twinkling with tears as he gave a small nod, "Thank you," he spoke this softly. She was breathless at his presence, he seemed so noble, wise but mournful.

There was a moment of silence as all watched him, feeling the heaviness and meaning in his words, "A toast to Gondor." He bellowed, his eyes glistening. He blinked them back when he looked at his brother, who also appeared to be emotional. Boromir was going to leave and this hurt Faramir, he would miss him dearly.

OOOoOOO

Therassa and Faramir had been forced to lead him to his room; no one else would help the intoxicated steward. He was difficult to carry and he repeatedly tried to claim her on their difficult journey back to his quarters. The young man forced him off of her many a time.

At their destination, Denethor shoved his son away from him but would not let go of her. With a hesitant goodbye, Faramir had to leave her in the hands of his aggressive father, concerned for her safety.

"My lord, you are drunk." She murmured sternly, as he grasped at her gown, his fingers curling in mid-air as she backed away, longing to escape from the room.

"I know what I want," he chuckled, stumbling, "You will keep me company, you'll amuse me"

Frustrated, she took his hands and tried to hold him off and push him towards his bed so that when he did fall asleep, it would not be on the hard floor.

"Let go of me whore," he barked, swatting weakly at her. Biting her tongue from retaliating to his drunken groans, she managed to force him to sit upon the mattress. He took this chance to hold her arms. As she tried to break away, he, with unusual strength, clung to her desperately, "Do not deny me of what I want."

"You are in no state for my company, my lord. You must rest and recover from this intoxication." She was able to get away, reversing to the door.

"If you will not give me what I want, I shall take. Make your choice." His words were slurred but the threat was prominent. She stopped where she was, looking fearfully at him, "Come to me now."

She did as she was told, "Please, not tonight." She begged pitifully. She had not done that in so long.

He ignored her, "Remove your gown." He seemed to slouch where he sat, but there was no denying the hunger in his eyes.

Once again she obeyed his commands and he patted the bed. Disappointed that her last night would hold such torment, she climbed under the sheets and awaited him to join her. She stared off absently as he undressed; sickened by the smell of alcohol oozing from his skin as crawled in beside her.

Dread overcame her, and shutting her eyes, she let him take her without another objection.

OOOoOOO

Feeling befouled, relieved that it did not last long and that he did in fact fall into an unconscious slumber, she returned to her room. She was emotional and fragile that evening as it was, when she returned to her room she curled up on her bed and cried. Burying her head, she couldn't stop the tears, trying to remember that it would all be over with soon.

It would not erase those horrible memories, and longing for that last night to be a peaceful one and receiving a humiliating and degrading experience was impossible for her to ignore.

When she fell asleep, it was from exhaustion.


	7. Chapter 7

Faramir took her aside before lunch, to see if she was all right, worried about the dangers that were about due to his father's state. She lied and told him all was fine, she wouldn't concern him with the Stewards twisted ways.

"Do you have your bags packed?" he spoke with a hushed voice, sounding more like a parent than a friend.

"Cauwen did as she said," she smiled faintly.

"Your clothes are down in the kitchens, ready for you to change into?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to miss me?"

"Terribly, Faramir." Assured no one was looking, she hugged him closely, "You have been a good friend, you have kept me sane."

"I will miss you too," He spoke looking miserably at her as they ended the hug, pained to see his friend leave, "Do not forget our unfinished lesson."

"Of course not, I have the book to remind me. Don't forget me." A single tear escaped, rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away.

"How do I forget you?" he took her hand, kissing it before saying, "Send my greetings to Gandalf if you come across him on your journeys, he could be roaming anywhere. And… take care of my brother." He looked at her, intently.

"Of course."

With another hug, they parted, she going to eat whilst Faramir searched for Boromir to speak to.

Denethor was dining in there when she arrived and reluctantly, she took her seat beside him, disgusted by the way he ate, allowing the food to smother his face.

"My lord," she said plainly.

"Have you seen Boromir?" he disregarded her greeting, sipping from more wine in his goblet.

"No, I have not."

"He should eat before he leaves."

There was a cold pause; she did not look at him, reaching for something to eat. She was stopped as she was slapped across the back of the head, hard, making her head throb,

"If you ever speak to me the way you did last night again, you will receive more than a strike across the head." Stunned, her mouth quivering, she fought to understand what he had said, "Yes, I remember last night, I was not too drunk. Denying me of your body is a stupid thing to do Therassa, a repeat of last night and I will deal with you and your disloyalty to me!" he spat, clutching the hair on the back of her head to search her face, "Do you understand me."

"Yes, my lord. Yes." Trembling all over, she gasped weakly as with one hard tug of her head, he released her.

"Good." and he continued on eating, ignoring her for the rest of the meal.

Boromir entered at one point but did not sit to eat, taking some fruit with him and patting his father's shoulder, telling him that he was going to make final preparations before he left. Denethor did not protest.

After she had finished, she scurried to her room to retrieve the one item she considered of value, the book that Faramir had given her. A reminder of their future meetings.

Carrying it in her hand, it was finally time for the people to bid the captain of the White Tower farewell. The steward was too concerned with his sons leaving to acknowledge her absence.

Hurrying down to the kitchens, she could hear the applause of those above knowing that Denethor was making one final speech before Boromir left. Cauwen was waiting for her; the other staff members had gone off to get a view of their master.

Offering her bag to her, Therassa took it with a brief 'Thank you' and shoved her book into it.

"Dagger, food, blanket, other sleeping essentials and your clothes are all in there, come you must change." The kindly woman showed her to the pantry where she could put on her travel clothes.

Emerging a few minutes later, she handed her old, elegant clothes to the woman and adjusted her beige cloak. She had dark breeches, a white blouse and a green waist coat on with leather boots. The broach holding the cloak about her neck was a silver, shining tree. She observed it closely and recognised it as the White tree of Gondor. Oddly enough, she was happy to have that; it was one beautiful thing she wished to remember about Minas Tirith.

Cauwen instructed her to remove the sheathed dagger from her bag, "There's a belt, my dear. It'll go about your waist fine." The cook took it from her as she pulled it out, with difficulty having already trapped it beneath her book. Fixing it on her, she stepped back and smiled, "You suit travelling clothing."

"Thank you for your help, when I am safe I will try to send you something. I am so grateful to you." Therassa hugged her quickly.

"You don't owe me a thing, now this way to the stables. The stable boy has a wonderful horse for you; he is strong, fast and loyal."

Adjusting her bag, hiding it beneath her cloak, it felt quite heavy upon her shoulder but it was not painful, she followed Cauwen.

The boy was young; he had scruffy red hair and clear skin. He looked worried as he led the horse to her, ready to ride. It was a grey horse that had a white ankles, he was huge but seemed gentle.

"Be careful with Harver," he commanded, "He's a good horse but he needs caring for."

"I promise you that I shall not allow any harm to come to him." she shook the hand of the stable boy. He helped her mount the horse; she hadn't not ridden in a very long time and felt nervous.

She stroked Harvers ear, speaking softly to him, "Good afternoon, aren't you a handsome horse. I am Therassa. You are a very good horse." She cooed and fussed about him, hearing him snort with content.

"At least he likes you," the boy said, relieved, "Bye boy." He patted the horses' side as she trotted towards the stable doors, pulling her hood over her head.

"Goodbye, I thank you again. I won't forget you." She called over her shoulder as she left the stable, slowly encouraging the horse to a gallop, through the streets of Minas Tirith.

OOOoOOO

People just avoided her, returning to their daily business after their warrior left. As she reached the main gateway, she was surprised that only one guard stood there. He held an arm out to stop her, "Please, state your business for leaving."

"I have been sent by Denethor…" she thought hard, trying to come up with anything believable, "To tend to affairs that concern his two sons." Trying to keep calm as he looked her up and down sceptically, finally he granted her passage.

Trotting through the gates, within minutes she was dashing across the plains, feeling light and alive as she realised she was free. Grinning foolishly to herself, she embraced the wind against her face, not concerned of enemy that could stop her at any moment, or what Denethor would do if he caught her, she was gone from Minas Tirith.

The horse was stealthy as they made their way across the land faster than she thought, "You're a wonderful creature, Harver!" she said.

Far from the city, it only a distant fleck upon the daunting landscape, she finally met Boromir who lounged against a tree, feeding the horse the core of his apple. Hearing her horses hooves; he glanced up, a wide, triumphant grin on his face.

"You're early."

"Well, it was Harver." She patted his neck, "He has great stamina about him."

He approached her, and held the reins as he looked upon the horse, "Harver, you are going to take great care with Therassa on our journey, she is a good woman."

She blushed, and stroked idly at the horses ear, loving the velvety feeling upon her fingertips. Watching him through her lashes, she noticed his handsome attire, lustrous chainmail armour underneath rich red tunic with gold embroidery and black leather coat, sleeveless as to expose the arms of the other clothing. He had thick leather gloves also and arm guards and dark boots on his feet. He had a horn at his belt, a sheathed sword and his cloak and shield lay beside his horse, which carried all his supplies in bags at its sides. His horse was brown, bigger than hers and probably stronger.

"Right," Boromir flung his cloak over his shoulders and adjusted his shield over it, "We must distance ourselves further from Minas Tirith, then we shall set up camp near a water source." Mounting the horse he began a steady trot, Therassa rode up beside him.

It was late afternoon and Boromir refused to stop yet, when night fell he would allow them to rest. Therassa was still buzzing from the excitement of being free but could not deny the sick feeling in her gut as she assumed that the Steward would know of her absence by this point.

Harver cheered her up; he was a very lovely creature. She'd always preferred animals to people; they'd never treated her cruelly as her fellow humans did. Therefore, she couldn't stop talking to him, telling him why she was with Boromir and about herself.

Her companion, when not scouting the area about them, was enjoying her conversation. When he laughed aloud she glanced at him, "What's so amusing?" her smile was bright, she was not annoyed by the disruption.

"I feel I am intruding, should I leave you and the horse be."

"We are just getting to know one another, I love knowing an animal. They have their own personalities too."

"I agree; ignorance would dismiss how unique every living thing is." Boromir face then became stern, cocking his head to side as though listening for something.

Searching the wilderness they were slowly becoming enclosed in, he seemed very alert. Therassa did not want to speak, in case he could hear a threat approaching. Within seconds of this thought, she heard it too.

"Water," he murmured, "Not far from us. If we rest now, we shall give ourselves sustenance to travel a full day tomorrow." And with that, he led them carefully towards the source.

They had to dismount to lead the horses safely to a clearing where a stream tripped along pleasantly. Attaching the horses' reins to a branch that hung near the water so that they could drink freely, Boromir said, "I will go and fetch fire wood, you watch over the beasts. I will not be long." And he disappeared in the thicket of the trees, gentle on his feet but still snapping twigs loudly as he went.

She talked to both the horses; Boromir's was named Whistletop, in his absence, and told them of all that she had experienced at Minas Tirith with little detail. She did not want to say that out loud even to herself.

When he returned, he built a fire and she cooked a small but decent dinner. It was ready just as night was firmly upon them and the cool breeze of the evening blew through the camp, sending a shiver down her spine. She would not be surprised if it rained the next day.


	8. Chapter 8

They ate their food talking happily between one another, and when they were done, warmed themselves by the warm fire, Boromir occasionally throwing a stick upon it to keep it burning.

Wrapped up in her blanket, using her cloak as a pillow, she propped herself up on her elbow and gazed at the flames. He sat opposite her, resting his arms on his knees, watching her, waiting for her to speak but not minding the silence. Another chilling but light breeze enclosed the camp, the fire billowing uncertainly.

"Oh my," Therassa shuddered, pulling her blanket even closer around her; Boromir reached for his too, and draped it over his shoulders. She thought of how the night before, she'd been trying to take Denethor to his room, that he had claimed her in his drunken state, more ruthless than ever before. Trying to block the memory from her mind and the panic as she imagined him sending soldiers to find her, she squeezed her eyes shut, brow furrowed as she forced those thoughts away.

"Are you that cold?" Boromir asked, believing her expression to be one of discomfort from the elements.

"I am fine, I am just thinking." she sighed, opening her eyes and seeing him watch her, anxious for her wellbeing.

"About what?"

"Nothing, just my minds tangent." The winds were picking up, harsher, Therassa quivered under blanket, trying to tuck it in about her so as not to fly off. The fire threatened to go out but thankfully did not.

Not convinced that was all she was frowning about, he stood, wandering to her side of the campfire, "You are cold; you are shaking as you lie there. Please, we can share my blanket. And hopefully our bodies will warm us as well."

She made to protest, saying that it was not fair that he must share his blanket due to her weak ability to warm herself but he refused to acknowledge her insistence.

"It is late anyway, we must rest. We have an early start ahead of us and I believe a storm may be approaching." He lay beside her, draping the covers over the both of them, and snuggling close to her. She was unusually comfortable with his being so close to hers and she let a satisfied sigh from her mouth as she felt better with the temperature the two of their bodies made.

"Thank you," she murmured, she heard him tut. He hated her saying that; he didn't think he deserved thanks for doing the decent thing. It brought a smile to her that he did.

She did not fall asleep still, and facing the flames it kept her awake, so she rolled over, Boromir lay on his back, eyes shut. He didn't breathe heavily so she assumed he wasn't in a slumber.

"Boromir," she whispered, he squinted, lifting his head slightly, "Am I a burden to you? Do you have any doubts about taking me away?"

"Why should I?" he frowned, his voice hushed.

"Because if I am found, if your father sends a search squad to take me back you'll be with me and he will punish you too."

"I do not think he would and anyway he won't send a search squad to find you. He will be furious, dangerous to be around but I'm sure he'll find another." He shut his eyes and reclined back, placing his arm above his head.

"And will you help that one?" Her brow knitted together, angered by his ignorant comment, "How can you be so casual as to allow another to experience your fathers malicious ways? Why am I so special to be singled out? If he attempts to claim another mistress, that woman has the right to be saved as I was." She sat up, and climbed from under the blanket, sitting beside him, throwing another stick onto the fire to encourage it to burn brighter. He pushed himself up, and watched her, regretting his comment.

"I did not mean it like that. Get yourself wrapped up again, sleep. We can further discuss this tomorrow morning." He patted the empty space beside him, pulling back her covers to encourage her to climb under.

"I am no longer weary." This was a lie; she could feel sleep tugging at her eye lids. She had not slept well in a long time.

"Then we must resolve this." Boromir sighed, shifting where he was before continuing, "I would aid anyone, man or woman, who I believed needed it. But I intend to disallow another incident like this to happen again, I will fight for it if I have to.

"Do you remember when you told me that there were many others who deserved freedom more than you?" Therassa inclined her head, still not looking at him, "You are right, there are many who need help and _all_ of those deserve it but there was just one that I believed I was capable of succeeding in. It was you, a woman of such depth, knowledge and understanding never deserved the fate you were faced with. I care for you because I see what Faramir sees, I feel it my duty to protect you as my friend." He knew what he said was true and he hoped she would believe it, trust him fully. There was a bond there that he could not explain, a feeling of overwhelming delight and heart-breaking sorrow when he was with her. This was more than friendship, he cared for her so very much and just being able to get her away from his home brought him joy. Yet he could not deny the harsh fact of the matter, that at some point he was going to leave her, he would say goodbye and may not ever see her again. This thought scared him.

"Do you mean that?" Therassa finally said. He was so surprised that she did not see her own self-worth.

"Of course." He reached for her shoulder gently, "Come now, the winds are gaining, and you need rest." This time, when he asked her, she did, curling up in her blanket as she was before, her back to him, he draped his over both their figures and lay back.

The canopy of branches above them was like a dark shield, creating an unusual sense of safety in that part of the forest. Staring at the blackness, he drifted off.

Therassa still did not sleep, she wanted to shuffle closer to him, use his body as warmth, as a pillow. She wanted to hold him and feel the pulse of his beating heart in his chest.

She did not move, battling her desires, falling into a land of horrible memories.

OOOoOOO

A gentle shake woke her from her slumber, growing insistent as she batted away the hand, trying to go back to sleep. "Therassa, my lady?" Boromir called sternly.

Opening her eyes, she saw his face and recognised the surroundings about her, relieved having been woken from a dream in which she had returned to the court of the Steward.

Standing with difficulty, the blood rushing to her head she steadied herself before going onto gather her things.

The camp was cleared; they filled their water flasks, allowed the horses to graze and drink, ate an apple each for breakfast and then led the animals back to the path they'd been on originally. Mounting them, they trotted along again; she was still drowsy, feeling her series of restless nights really catching up with her.

Rain fell heavily upon them and Boromir moved in front of her, leading them through the treacherous weather, finding it easier to see where he was going unlike Therassa who had to turn her face down as the water pelted her skin. Soon they were riding through the forest quicker, trying to succeed many miles so that he could get Therassa somewhere safer sooner.

Happy for the growing distance between the Steward and herself, she was not able to disguise her concern for the next spot they could come across for a camp. The weather was so horrible that she dreaded the idea of sleeping in the mud.

"Therassa," Boromir called over his shoulder, "We will take cover underneath that tree, and wait for this treacherous shower to end." He turned away to the right and helped her down from her horse, tying the horses up again on a branch whilst they sat upon the roots of the large, aging, gnarled tree. Only the occasional drop breaking the barricades of the leaves above, they patiently waited for better weather.

"Something seems wrong," Boromir looked about them suspiciously, "I cannot place it but I can sense It." he was changed from the night before, he was more relaxed then and now, she noticed his tense figure, he seemed nervous.

"Do you think it is of Mordor?" her voiced was hushed; "Does it seem threatening?"

"Threatening, yes. Is it from Mordor? I cannot tell; I am not an elf Therassa." He smirked, not reaching his eyes, trying to relieve her of her concern. But he did not let his guard down. An all new kind of fear became present, even Boromir reflected this to her. Something wasn't right, the air, the land, it seemed as though they were being watched…however, not by human eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

"This way," Boromir said they were keeping their voices down; the heavy down pour was now just blustery spray, easier to ride in. Whatever they sensed was still watching them, following them as they made their way through the forest. It seemed to be clearing; sooner or later they would open out onto the plains, on their way to Rohan.

"We will not be in this woodland forever," he sighed, mainly speaking to Whistletop, reassuring the creature, who was becoming restless, as was Harver.

Therassa watched him fearfully; knowing he was anxious only increased her terror. She just wanted to be somewhere safe, but she also had no regrets. She'd rather risk her life in unknown woodland than face another calling from Denethor.

They travelled further, beginning to relax a little as they saw, very far off, what sugeested to be a nearing end to the trees, perhaps opening out onto a field. Relief washed over her, she'd feel reassured once she was away from the dreaded place.

As this thought crossed her mind, she heard the not so distant cry of what sounded like a man. It was bloodcurdling; a sharp coldness pierced her spine, refusing to look around. Boromir did, and his eyes widened as he saw figures rushing towards them through the trees. They were humans, barbaric wild men, Easterlings.

"We must ride!" he bellowed, darting off, Therassa close behind. The men moved with unusual speed, there must have been seven but they were determined to claim the Gondorians. She could not make the sound of their calls fade away, their animalistic sounds rattled deep under skin.

A crude arrow was shot, penetrating Whistletop, bringing him to the floor. Boromir tumbled from the helpless beast and lay wheezing. Coming to a sudden halt, Therassa dismounted clumsily and tried to help him to his feet. The weak cries of the dying horse brought tears to her eyes; the arrow had struck deep and pierced a vital organ, making it bleed internally.

"Get up!" she sobbed, pulling at the warriors arm, "They're approaching!"

He struggled in moving, rolling onto his side. They were so near; she withdrew her dagger and stood protectively. Harver stood beside Whistletop, refusing to leave as its friend died slowly.

At last on his hands and knees, Boromir looked blindly about him, struggling to regain control of his thoughts. Seeing the immobile horse, he crawled towards it and stroked its weak form before pulling his belongings from its back. Desperately, he managed to stand and withdrew his sword as the Easterlings jumped into sight, waving aging but deadly weapons.

Harver still did not run, ignoring the fight. Therassa stabbed awkwardly at the men attacking them, but it was Boromir who defended her as she failed to hurt any of them.

"Take Harver!" he barked as he dodged the strike of one of the attackers, "Let me fight them." he gave a blood thirsty cry as he took two down in swift flourishes.

She did not do as ordered as she felt a blade slice her fore arm. Stunned, fury building as the pain struck her, she turned and stabbed blindly, cutting into the skin at the base of its throat, killing him almost instantly as she broke the airways.

Blood upon her hands, she realised that now was not the time to be stunned by her kill. Confused that Boromir was the main target, she searched the woodland only quickly counting three dead and three attacking her companion. It was then she saw the other reaching for an arrow from his sheath. He was watching the warrior.

Faster than she thought she ever could, she ran towards the Easterling who was beginning to draw the bow back, ready for shooting. She knew his shot was good and that he could hit Boromir even as he moved frantically in a difficult battle between the other barbarians.

The enemy was focused on his target and was not so very aware of her as she came at him diagonally, tackling him to the ground. He shot the arrow upwards, penetrating a tree branch. She rolled off him as they struck the ground and struggled to stand upon the uneven woodland floor. Able to get to his feet faster and infuriated, he withdrew his sword, filthy with an uneven edge.

Wide eyed, looking up at him on her back, she crawled away realising her dagger had fallen from her hand as she knocked the enemy down. Not knowing if it was too dangerous to look away to see where it was, she just stared at the barbaric man standing over her. The sight mirrored a memory she cared to forget, scared but angered by the recollection she scrabbled to her feet, avoiding a thrust of the blade.

Taking the moment as he regained his balance, she spotted her weapon about three paces away. Grabbing it, she turned around with it held in front of her; the Easterling foolishly ran into the blade, his rage had gotten the better of him.

His face level with hers, she watched the life leave his psychotic eye, a childlike fear flashing across them before becoming blank. She let go of the dagger handle and the body, with her weapon in him, collapsed to the floor. Carefully, feeling a sickness rise in her throat, she removed the blade and backed away from the body speedily; terrified it may grab her ankle.

Without looking back, Therassa ran towards Boromir who had two Easterlings left, she jumped on the back of one of them, covering his eyes, digging her fingers into his skin as he fought blindly to get her off. Reversing into a tree trunk, winding her, she slipped from him. He kicked her in the face, before returning to his original opponent. Her head snapped right, her whole body collapsed to the mossy floor as her skull struck a solid root. Therassa was knocked unconscious.

OOOoOOO

Cold hands touched her cheeks gently, thumbs tracing the curve of her cheek. Therassa did not open her eyes, becoming, slowly, distinctly aware of a throbbing pain in her head. She realised that she had been knocked out but she didn't want to wake. She felt unusually tired and sore all over her body. She could feel her hair clinging to her face, her damp clothes stuck to her skin. But she did not feel cold; something dry and warm had been placed over her. In fact she could not even feel the wind or the down fall of rain on her face.

Finally opening her eyes, the pain spreading through her brain, she squinted as she looked up at a man's profile. It was Boromir, she could just about make out the strong features, his hands were still on her face, but he was not looking at her. Where she was, it was dark and sheltered from the elements although she could tell night had fallen as the sky was just visible from the corner of her eye, a moon shining mysteriously above. She'd been unconscious a while.

A fire had been lit, and she lay beside it, Boromirs intentions were to keep her warm. She groaned as she tried to move her head. Hearing her and noticing her movement beneath his touch, with a sigh of relief, he smiled down at her.

"How are you feeling?" his voice was soft, hushed. He removed his hands from her face and went to throw a stick on the fire. He'd found a chance while she lay unconscious to gather wood dry enough to ignite.

"My head…" She pushed herself to a sitting position and held her head in her hands, hissing at the movement. She glanced about herself very carefully, trying to avoid the painful motions. He must've used one of the tors as a cave like shelter for them; the rocks were large and curved in interesting, protective ways. Where the moon shone upon the landscape before her, she saw wide plains and the rolling hills about them.

"You should lie back; your head was struck hard and I have not had the chance to fully inspect it." he moved closer to her, kneeling beside her, holding her head with his large hands, his fingers delicately prodding and exploring for any open wounds or damaged areas. One part, to the side of her head was tender and bruised; he discovered this as she let out a little squeal when he pressed upon it.

"Ah, don't be so theatrical. There is not much I can do to heal this, just be careful. Oh, and I bandaged your arm. The cut was not too deep." She felt for the bandage and saw that only a small bit of blood had soaked through, she'd almost forgotten about that injury.

He took the blanket that sat over her legs and draped it over her shoulders, encouraging her to move so her body faced the fire, legs crossed.

"Why did they attack?" Therassa asked after a moment of silence, being offered a freshly cooked rabbit. He'd been hunting too; they must have not travelled much further after the ambush.

"I believe it was because they recognised me, they seemed like a scout mission. Much farther away from their fellow clansmen." He took a large bite from his own rabbit and chewed casually whilst she struggled, the meat was tough and the simple task made her brain sore.

"They are all dead?" she tried to speak softly as to save herself any more mind trauma.

"Yes, I am impressed. You took down two. Where did you learn those skills?" he watched her curiously, finishing his food.

"There was none, sheer dumb luck." Smiling crookedly she tried to finish her own food. He could see she was struggling but he wanted her to gain as much energy as possible, he was concerned that she was not eating enough as it was.

"Well your dumb luck saved us both." He chuckled, "Thank you for disobeying my orders."

Staring at him she frowned, "Orders? Of course I would refuse them. Out here, you and I are equal, are we not? That is how I see it."

Watching her intently, they did not look away from one another. She was waiting for a response whilst he was thinking about how very right that comment was. He had not seen himself of higher stature as they rode across the land, risking their lives to ensure that she could have a life. If he was alone, he would not have stopped so often and would only have been concerned with his own safety.

They glanced away from one another when Harver let out an unattractive snort, seeing the horse grazing. The horse seemed in low spirits, mourning the death of Whistletop.

Standing and then steadying herself, feeling dizzy but relieved that the pain in her head was lessening, she reached into her bag that lay not too far from where she'd been sitting and retrieved the last apple. Approaching the beast, she stroked his ear and presented the fruit to him on her open palm. He took it gratefully; she ran her hand up and down his head and patted his side.

"You were a very good friend to Whistletop," she murmured to him, "I'm proud of you, staying by his side." The horse seemed to listen to her, his large glistening eyes observing her. He nuzzled into her shoulder, and she patted his neck lovingly.

Finally stepping away, whispering goodnight, she went to observe the moon in the sky, the winds had died down and there was still no rain. The night was clear and she was beginning to feel dryer, although in the distance she could see the rainclouds leaving meaning that Boromir had not had her out of the showers that long.

Pulling her blanket closer, she leant on the stone that they camped beneath. It was larger than she thought; it stretched far back and stood very solid. Boromir stayed where he was, knowing that she was not far from him. He had feared the worst that day and could not stop staring at the edge of the rock where she would appear when she returned to her seat.

He wanted to be at her side, to remain at her side. To stand with her, warm her in the night air, viewing the moon shining across the landscape. He did not know if she felt the same, he knew there was a friendship between them but he was unsure of more.

Within a day or two, their travels would be over; he would take her toe Edoras where she would be kept safe by the king Théoden and his kin whilst he continued on to Rivendell. Trusting she would remain protected, it would not be enough because he would miss her.


	10. Chapter 10

Another day and travelling by foot as the horse carried their belongings now, too weak and tired to carry them both. At dusk they set up camp. They could not make a fire and felt bad being unable to give Harver any water although there was plenty of grass for him to graze from. The sky was a hazy blue with red in the distance where the sun set. It was a magnificent view and Therassa stood beside another tor observing the natural beauty. There were many tors about and were helpful to protect them from the elements although it was only light winds for now.

Boromir moved to stand beside her, seeing the sky even left him speechless. The silence was broken when Therassa murmured, eyes sparkling as she never took her gaze away from the view, "Can you believe that we have done it?"

At first he didn't understand what she meant and then it struck him, the reason she was with him. It had slipped his mind, or perhaps he had pushed it from his mind.

"I… I cannot." A hint of smile appeared on his lips, amused that he could not find other words to display how overwhelmed he was, all his thoughts battling one another, unsure what to feel.

She saw his face, its conflicting expressions, and longed to know what he was thinking. Disappointed as he turned away, returning to their belongings he changed the subject, calling over his shoulder, "It is time to eat, we only have bread."

Taking the food from his bag and returning to where he had stood, and sitting down she followed him. Where they sat was on a slope, the descending sun casting a beautiful orange glow over them and the surrounding lands. He had half a loaf and splitting that between the two, he gave Therassa her share, "We can't make a fire and all the food we have needs to be cooked. I'm sorry about this; I was intending to get some more supplies in Edoras."

"So soon? You did not tell me it was Edoras we were going." She sighed, looking down at the bread in her hands, saddened.

"Yes, I was not sure if Rohan would be the best place for you, they are close allies with Gondor. But I realise that there are people there that I trust fully and more than most at Minas Tirith. Who I know will keep you safe."

_Safe,_ she thought,_ I feel safe with you, always you. Your face brightened my day. When we exchanged glances, when you saw me and actually looked at me, eyes meeting, it filled me with an excruciating joy that I could never show. I will, probably, never let you know how much your acknowledgements meant to me on those long days at Denethors' side. You would occasionally come in and I fought a smile or a polite, pleased 'hello'. Sometimes you and Faramir, my closest friend, would be away fighting for Gondor and I would be left for weeks with your cruel, twisted, pathetic father. But when I saw his sons… I felt happier. My heart tightened and I longed to exclaim because I saw you… and you saw me._

"You have been a good friend Boromir," was the only response she could conjure, afraid to look at him in case she broke down in front of him, unable to share any of the thoughts swarming her brain. She was just too frightened and yet she did not know what of.

Boromir did not reply, not out of rudeness, he was just slightly lost for words. So much to say and not knowing how to say it, this truth tormented them.

"How is your head?" he spoke softly, yearning to hold her close and protectively.

"I am not concerned with my head; I'm concerned that I will be in Edoras this time tomorrow." She realised what she was going to say but she was unable to stop herself, feeling frustrated that he was worrying about her silly injury when she was thinking of other more painful things. She had been shutting away her true emotions for too long, Denethor never cared for her feelings. Nervous as she continued on, she stared intently at the hills in the distance "There I'll be and you'll continue onwards, being the valiant man I admire, leaving me. I… I don't want you to leave."

She put the last of her bread in her mouth and chewed it quickly, regretting her sudden outburst of truthfulness. Nothing was said from the man beside her but she could feel his body go stiff, stunned by the revelation.

"You don't want me to leave?" exasperated, he stood and wandered over to where their belongings lay, "You don't want me to leave? You…"

Reluctantly, shaking, she rose to her feet and turned to look at him as he stood, his hands upon his hips, back to her, appearing large and threatening as he fell very silent. She took a few steps towards him but was unable to go nearer because she was unsure what else she could say or do to change what she said, or take it back. But she didn't want to take it back, she wanted him to say something else, reflect upon her enlightening statement.

Flooding her mind were the thoughts that he would ultimately reject her, that he would be very desperate to go after he had gotten her to her destination. She was surprised when he finally looked at her, frowning, eyes sad and staring at her… was it sympathetically? Running a hand through his hair, he sighed, "Would my leaving hurt you?"

With a nervous nod she murmured, "Boromir, I care about you..."

At that response he approached her, never taking his eyes from her. Taking her face in his hands he spoke softly, "I don't want to hurt you." He placed his lips upon her, passionately kissing her, as his hands timidly caressed the skin upon neck.

And in that moment, she cared not about that title and place she had longed for in her time at Minas Tirith, nor did she care for the escape to Edoras. The tender kiss, full of enthralling power and emotion, seemed to be all she wanted. Boromir became her most important desire, more so than all she had dreamed of for years, in those few seconds.

The blissful moment was interrupted as they heard and felt beneath their feet a distant rumble. Turning from her, his brow knotted together as confusion and unease claimed any happiness he may have worn upon his face as he glanced across the plains. Apprehension grasped Therassas' mind, she looked about blindly, wondering what it could be. He noticed it first, dark shapes approaching in the direction they had rode from that day. She could not make them out but they seemed to be moving at an unusual speed. There appeared to be no organization in their form but they were not the right size to be any animal.

It was Boromir who recognized them first, startling her as he grasped her wrist and hurried her towards their things and then wildly trying to gather it all, "It cannot be." He growled. Therassa did not know what to say, frozen in her place, watching his agitation and fear increase, "What, who?"

"Easterlings!" he barked, trying to get their bags upon Harver. This knocked some sense into her and she began to aid him, "How? This far north?"

"The dead patrolmen must have been found. I was a fool to think that the rest of them would not be far off. They are hunting us!"

Looking back at them as she slung her own bag over her shoulder, the shapes were even closer and the sound of cries could be heard, just as unsettling as before. The moon was rising in the sky and she could make out they're appearance in the silver glow. Not so wild in looks as the others, these seemed to wear armour different from what she had ever seen in Gondor, their helmets were strange threatening shapes, warped and bronze.

Finally, she was able to avert her gaze and continue helping Boromir, "They are different from the ones in the woods! These are not like wild men, these are warriors."  
"In the end it is all the same." Hopeless, he grabbed Harvers reigns and began to pull the horse, Therassa close behind him, "There numbers are too great my Lady, we cannot fight. I want you to take the horse and ride onwards to Edoras. You must obey me this time, I refuse to let you fight this time" he glanced at her hand as it curled around the hilt of the dagger, "That will not help you now."  
"But Harver is too weak, what about you?"

"Get on the horse." And with that he grabbed her and placed her on it and then pushing at the creature, it set off into a gallop. All Boromir had on him was his shield, the horn of Gondor, his sword and the side bag that he kept to relieve the horse of the strain, although it wouldn't make much difference.

Therassa screamed at him as he turned away from her to face the oncoming hoard. He was a foolish man; she prayed for a miracle. Soon she could not see him at all and even the sound of their cries had faded into the distance. Dangerously, she tried to adjust the way she was on the horse as it sped along, clinging to the reigns nervously. Her stomach lurched as she managed to swing her leg over so that she now straddled the horse and taking full control of the creature she tried to bring it to a halt, "Harver," she commanded, "Stop! We must go back!" the horse understood her pleas and obeyed as he turned around, making their way back.

Weak and tired, the horse managed to trot with small bursts of speed. She had not realised how far they had travelled in such a small space of time but it seemed to be taking longer. Soon she began to hear a distant rumble again and her thoughts travelled to the Easterlings. Her worst fear arose as she began to think of him, they had killed Boromir and now they were after her. She could see the figures approaching towards her and she turned the poor creature she rode around again. But he was just too weak; he seemed to stumble as he tried to pick up his trot but no faster could he ride. "Please, Harver, please." The sounds behind her were much quicker approaching than the ones before, and glancing over her shoulder she witnessed them at last.

These were not the same as the others; these men rode horses, the gallop more distinguished as they neared. They seemed to bear spears, taller than the mounted riders. The men could see her clearly and were beginning to encircle her and Harver; she was too scared to cry. Instead she ran a gloved hand through the horses' mane as he finally came to a stop, unable to go any further.

Weapons pointed at her, Therassa stared wide-eyed, glancing about desperately. But these were not Easterlings. These men were coated in metal armour and their helmets were simple dome shape, with intimidating hair like a horse's tail trailing from the top of it.

"Lower your weapons." She searched for the face to go with the demanding voice and found him, a man with dark eyes staring at her curiously, "It is but a woman." Therassa remained silent as he approached her, "What is your name?"  
"I am Lady Therassa," her voice was weak but she tried to compose some courage, "And you soldier?"

"I am Éomer, son of Théodwyn and Éomund, nephew of Théoden, king of Rohan. And Lady Therassa, what would a woman like you be doing riding in the dead of night across the plains of Rohan? These are dangerous times."

"My companion, we were crossing and were ambushed by a hoard of Easterlings, just south of here. I am on my way back to him, he sent me away to escape and now I fear I have lost him." the expressions on the man's face changed, as though he finally understood what was going on about him.

"We have slayed this hoard, there were not too many for the likes of us. Do not fret my Lady; this companion of yours is not lost. We found him fighting them off, but he has been injured and is in need of medical aid." As he said that, he signalled towards a soldier, behind the first row of men to come forward. He rode carefully towards her, the ones in front stepping aside to let him pass.

Lying lifeless across the man's lap was Boromir. Her lip quivering, she fought hard not to sob or dismount Harver and cling to her companion desperately. Instead she sat there, staring with a pain in her chest, unable to do anything for him.

"Boromir," she murmured, struggling to keep her voice from breaking. Éomer's gazed moved between the two of them, his brow furrowing as she said the name, "Boromir? Of Gondor? Son of Denethor, the Steward?"

She was able to disguise her disgust at her old masters name but nodded, "He is."

"We shall ride to Edoras immediately. Your horse looks unwell. You shall ride with me whilst one of my men can lead your horse at its own pace. Someone relieve the beast of the packs." Turning to her, he waited patiently for her to dismount.

Finally, after some difficulty and needing to be lifted up to the horse, she took her place behind Éomer, arms wrapped around his waist as they set off. She couldn't help herself, and kept glancing behind at the body of Boromir unmoving and appearing weak, vulnerable as he was carried to Edoras. This was not how she imagined their arrival, feeling sick to her stomach with worry and guilt. Guilt for having rode so far away, leaving him behind. She could only pray that he would survive the journey.


	11. Chapter 11

It was morning by the time they had reached the city and many had awoken to go about their daily business, the guards were changing, exchanging watches of the vast land about them. She was given a room in the main, royal hall without audience with the king, Théoden. Éomer did not want to disturb him as he had fallen into a sickness and was bound to his bed for a while. His chief advisor, Gríma Wormtongue, had been informed of their arrival and the king had been notified. He did not care very much for the information and therefore they were granted permission to stay, without difficulty.

Boromir had been taken off to the infirmary and Therassa had not been allowed to visit him, the servants insisted she slept as, according to them, she looked weary and in need of a good rest. After they bathed her, using oils of deep, intoxicating scents on her skin and hair, they dressed her in a thin cream night gown, the fabric soft and comfortable, making her extremely drowsy. She was in a slumber before she could eat anything, unaware of how sleep-deprived she had become on her journey.

When she finally awoke, it was night again. She was unsure how long she had slept but she could assume it was the next evening. Lying upon her bed, the rich cloth resting upon her body, she stared at the ceiling.

Soon her gaze wandered about the room itself. The bed she was in had four posts, it was wide and spacious but not as soft as the one she had back in Gondor. She was pleased with the change. Anything was better than a forest floor. Facing her, at the end of her bed on the far wall was a fireplace, large and stretching the width of the mattress she lay on. The fire was nothing but cinders now, but the room was still warm, comforting.

She was about to shut her eyes to drift off into a sleep when she remembered everything that had happened in the past few days. Sitting up in her bed, she put her face in hands and moaned into them. The confession, the unfinished kiss and now the wounded man she cared too dearly for. Was he alive? She needed to know where he was, to find the infirmary and see him. She wanted to hold him and not let go. But, perhaps he had recovered and his thoughts had changed, maybe he was not interested in her in the slightest. She needed to see him, to speak with him about the matter.

Another issue arose in her mind, was she welcome to stay? It was Boromir who was the one to talk to them; she would not know what to say. At that moment she needed Boromir desperately. Above all Therassa missed the man's company so very much.

Rolling from her bed, her nightgown thin and airy billowing as she hurried about the room to find something to robe herself in. At the end of her bed was a chest, opening it she found some clothing. But there were only gowns, she did not need them. She needed a dressing gown of some sort. Finally, draped upon a little wooden chair in the corner of the room, she found one of a smoky grey colour. The servants had also laid out a forest green gown for the next day. She wondered where her old clothes had gotten to; the beautiful broach was nowhere to be seen.

Pulling on the dressing gown and putting on, with ease, slippers that had been placed by the head of the bed, she left her room, warily, trying to make as little noise as possible. She was not afraid here; the people seemed humble but not threatening. Making her way along the corridors, not even knowing which direction was right, she bumped into a guard who recognized her as the guest.

"My lady," he bowed his head slightly, "What are you doing up?" his voice was slow; his kindly eyes a soft blue as he asked with genuine concern. He was not handsome or dashing but he was polite, she knew she had no reason to fear him. There was something trustworthy about him.

"I am looking for the infirmary." Therassa felt a smile, a casual, friendly smile spread across her face. It had been a long time since she had smiled to someone like that, someone she barely knew.

"That's just down the corridor and the door at the end of the hall on your right. May I enquire where you are going? It's after midnight." His deep voice echoed even when he whispered.

"After midnight? I did not know it was so late." She was surprised but brushed it aside. _When was it ever a good time for anything_, she thought. "I have a friend who I must see immediately."

"I will pry no further my lady. Mind yourself, hopefully the healers will allow you to see your friend." He smiled politely and tilted his head in goodbye.

"Thank you." Beginning to go along the corridor, she came to a sudden halt and spun around, "What it your name, guard?"

"Ollwynn, my lady, Ollwynn Telcontar."

"Thank you, Ollwynn."And with that she continued onwards.

A door to the left of the infirmary was slightly ajar and peering in she could see a sleeping woman, who she took to be one of the healers, at her desk, head upon parchments. Therassa took this as an opportunity to go in, undisturbed.

She made sure to be as gentle as possible as she pushed the infirmary doors open. Heavier than she thought, it was a relief the wood did not groan or creak as it moved allowing her a quick and silent entrance. Inside she was confronted with rows and rows of empty cots continuing along the length of the vast room. The ceiling was high and the windows tall about them. There was one occupied cot, at the end of the room, the moonlight shining down on the figure as it snoozed.

Tip-toeing down the aisle running through the middle of the rows, she hurried to it. It was clear Boromir lay there before she reached it, his long hair upon the pillow. At his side, she was able to observe his handsome face and strong features. He seemed peaceful, his breath deep and slow, she didn't have the heart to wake him. They had cleaned him of the dirt that seemed to have layered itself on both of them the past few days. But she noted the small cuts upon his cheeks that were healing, not too deep a wound.

Feeling like a coward, her guilt crawling back upon her she swallowed back her pathetic sobbing, becoming angered by her own insistent need to cry. Balling up her fists, she struck her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. Her shoulders shook as she fought away her emotions but the battle was too great and she was overwhelmed. Slowly, trembling, she lowered herself to the floor beside Boromirs' cot and buried her head in the sheets. Silently, she cried. He did not stir as eventually, all the energy was taken from her and she drifted off.

Someone brushed her hair behind her ear and as she lifted her head she could see Boromirs strong, smiling face looking down at her. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position, and appeared in high spirits after all that had happened. "You're aware there were plenty of beds for you to sleep in. Do not cause yourself discomfort for my sake."

Therassa beamed at this, forgetting all her worries of that night. Looking out the window, she could see that dawn had broken but the sun was still low in the sky. She was beginning to hear the bustle of the city outside and knew that the healers would awake soon.

"What brings you to my bedside, my lady?" there was a charming grin upon his face as he awaited her answer. She took his hand, feeling the long gentle fingers as she contemplated. All she wanted to say now seemed like childish worries, it was clear his thoughts remained, unchanged. "I was worried," she finally said, it was the truth; "Terrified, you could've..."

Chuckling he squeezed her hand with the one she held, "It will take a lot more than a band of disorganized Easterlings to bring me to my end." She was not so amused; her mind still seemed to wander to all the possibilities that could have happened had he not been saved in time. Once again, internally, she was violently blaming herself.

Before Boromir could comment on her low spirits, they heard the doors open with a bang. Both looked to the door to see, standing there, the healer she had spotted sleeping in her room. Noticing Therassa instantly, she called sternly as she made her way down the aisle, "What are you doing in here my lady? This is a place of healing, not recreation." Eyeing the pair and waiting for her to stand up and leave, Boromir gave her hand one last squeeze before she finally rose.

"Excuse me," Therassa addressed the healer directly, "I apologise for intruding, it is just that I had to see if Lord Boromir was recovering. Will he be all right?"

"He will be able to leave the infirmary after breakfast, you can come back then. I suggest you hurry back to your room, you wouldn't want to be wandering the corridors in broad daylight in your nightwear." The healer nodded to her and went to his side, leaving Therassa to make her own exit. She heard him exclaim as she tended to his injuries, he must have had many more on his body she did not see. "Hush now my lord, you're being infantile." The healer cried as Therassa stepped through the doorway.

Sprinting along the corridor, noticing that Ollwynn was no longer there having been replaced by an older man, she could just about recall the directions back to her room. Her mind began to remind her of all the things she should've said as she rushed along. They would have to wait. She would have the chance to talk to him at some point in the day all though she would not doubt that it would not be for long, Éomer would seek him out and address him about the situation they were in. She was not afraid by this. Éomer did not scare her.

In her room, she discarded her nightgown upon her bed and slid into the green gown that she had found on the chair in the corner. Pulling on her shoes, she then wandered to the mirror and brushed her long, silky hair of all its tangles. She had nothing to decorate it with and so made do with her appearance. Therassa was confident as she left the room, strolling along the corridors towards the banquet hall. She hadn't felt this way in such a long time and she believed a lot of it had to do with Boromir.


	12. Chapter 12

Éomer greeted her as she entered; the atmosphere in the hall was pleasant as he smiled brightly. "How are you feeling my lady, you must have needed the rest?"

"Very well, thank you for your hospitality." Therassa felt his hand lightly touch her arm as he led her to the end of the long table. He sat her beside him, the kings chair remained empty, she beside the empty seat. Across from Éomer was a young woman with long golden locks, slightly wavy unlike Therassa's own which was dully straight, her sweet, and attentive face watching as she got comfortable.

"Éowyn," he addressed the woman opposite him, "This is lady Therassa, she and lord Boromir arrived here from Gondor. My lady, this is my sister Éowyn."

With gentle inclines of their heads, they had greeted one another. And not much was said over the course of the meal, at least Therassa did not say so much. She was incredibly hungry and was desperate just to get some sustenance in her stomach. Thinking idly, as the siblings chatted; she considered going to see Harver that day. Maybe after she and Boromir had spoken. The poor creature had been so weak when they had finally reached Edoras, hopefully it had been fed and watered well and recovered from the strain of the journey.

As the meal came to an end, the hall began to empty and it was not long before she excused herself, thanking them for their company. "You are free to do what you will here," Éomer stated before she went, "Your presence is welcome."

"Thank you, my lord." With a polite curtsy, she hurried from the hall, intent on being present as Boromir left the Infirmary. As she rounded the corner, onto the corridor approaching the room, she saw the door at end the hall open slowly. Three figures stepped out. One, the healer she had spoken to that morning was ushering the other two along. Another healer, younger and taller was assisting a man, in rich Rohan clothing, out. Therassa could see it was Boromir. None of the figures at the end of the hall noticed her as she began to speed up along the hallway. He seemed to still be in some pain as his body hunched over, stiff and sore, the way he walked was with dome difficulty but other than that. He was just beginning to return to his full height, claiming his independence as he stepped away from the assistance of the healer, adjusting to the aches in his body. Before she knew it, she was sprinting, calling his name, not caring who would see and excited to see him returning to his normal self.

Boromir looked up at the sound of her voice, the healers disapproving of her boisterous manner. Arms open wide, Therassa threw herself at him, embracing him, loving the feel of his broad body as she cuddled herself closer. When she did this, she was not just hugging a friend but also a man that she cared for more than anything she'd ever known. He stumbled back at the impact, gasping with surprise but accepted her hug. Holding her tightly to him, they stood like that for a few moments. Knowing he cared about her made smiling easier and her worries fade.

The moodier healer cleared her throat, "You must take care my lord and whatever expedition you have been set upon can wait a couple more days." Finally their embrace ended and Boromir turned his head to look at the healer, "I understand completely, thank you for all you have done for me."

The healers bowed their heads and wandered into the office just off the corridor, where Therassa had seen one of them snoozing. Boromir looked over head before turning his attentions to her, leaning in close to place a gentle, sweet kiss upon her lips, brief but perfect. Breathless as he pulled away, yearning for more, he placed a hand upon her back and began to lead them along the corridor, their step casual.

As they made their way out into the open, magnificent architecture and beauty of Rohan struck them both. Boromir had not visited the city in many years but he had established a close relationship with Éomer, a bond not as strong like the treasured one her shared with Faramir. Yet still they had remained good friends, although seeing little of one another. He was surprised how glad he was to see him for the first time in years, just the previous day, as he lay vulnerable and weak, the healers tending his wounds.

They were crossing the courtyards of the Golden hall when Therassa sighed. "At last we may speak to one another."

"What of?"

"The ambush. My place here… us." she believed she had highlighted most of the key topics of discussion.

"The ambush? I'm alive, am I not? What is there to discuss?" his brow knotted with displeasure, awaiting her answer. Of all the things to talk about, fighting and death was not one he was so happy to oblige to. Not with Therassa. He did not see her as an incapable woman, he believed she had the potential to be a good fighter but truly, he'd rather talk about less violent things with her.

"It was my fault what happened to you, my lord. If I had just turned back, you would not have been sent to the infirmary."

"It was no one's fault but those damned Easterlings who attacked us! Don't blame yourself for my wounds, I sent you away for your own safety. You and I would have both perished had it been just the two of us. It was sheer luck Éomer and his riders were there when they were." Shaking her head at his words, still unable to accept that she did not help him, her cheerfulness was disappearing and in its place, a consuming guilt and anger at herself grew. Boromir noticed the change in her and grabbed her wrist, avoiding reaching for her forearm where she still had her cut from the first ambush. It must've begun to heal; it was not a deep wound.

Bringing them to a stop, he stepped before her, looking upon the sad face, "It was not your fault, do not blame yourself. To feel guilty for something such as this… its madness my lady. Please wash away these worries." Brushing loose strands of hair behind her ear, he carried on walking as soon as she nodded gently to him.

Therassa inhaled shakily, trying to force away the negative thoughts that seemed to linger in her mind and said, "There are other matters to attend, such as-" he knew what she intended to ask and jumped in, "I will be seeking out Éomer later on, I will speak with him and he will take this message onto King Théoden. You will be accepted as a Lady of Gondor who is welcome in the lands of Rohan as one of their own, just as a subject of Rohan being welcome in Gondor. Do not fret; I have faith in them and in you. Lady Éowyn would be grateful for a female companion especially one of your nature. Two high-spirited women should become good friends, do you think? Fitting in here shall be simple." They were looking out across the city; the ledge they were on was a sudden drop, steep and dangerous. Boromirs' natural senses had him reach for Lady Therassas' hand to guide her away, not liking her so close to the edge.

A hint of a smile brushed upon her face, flattered by his protectiveness, but it did not linger. _What if they know me, or know what I am_, she thought, _that I was the stewards whore. I will not be accepted if that comes to light and what then. I cannot travel from town to city trying to escape that horrifying role I played. _Boromir would not always be there to protect her, he would still have to leave, she knew that. It was his duty to his people to go on to Rivendell and that was more important than her need for acceptance.

A voice called from behind Therassa and Boromir, and turning in unison they saw Éomer striding towards them, smiling brightly. Reaching to pat his friends shoulder, an affectionate greeting, he bellowed, "You look better, those cuts seem to be healing fast."  
"Yes, I doubt there will be many scars." He grinned back, still not letting go of her hand. With a delicate caress of her thumb, she removed hers and smiled upon the two men.

"My friend, you requested to speak with me. I am all ears." Éomer waited eagerly.

"Not here," And turning to address Therassa, Boromir murmured, "Excuse us, you understand this matter. I shall see you later I suppose." Therassa nodded, receiving a beaming grin in return, and was able to walk away feeling elated by the simple fact that his charming smile was for her.

Crossing the courtyard she and Boromir had walked, she went to the stables. She was able to find them easily; the smell and sounds were quite distinguishable. A stable boy, who was in fact much older than a boy for he was, perhaps, in his late forties, eyed her suspiciously. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"I'm here to see my horse, he was very unwell and I'd like to know that he is on the road to recovery." She spoke timidly, fighting desperately to keep eye contact with him.

"D'you mean the horse that was exhausted, the grey one, it's got white ankles? He is doing well, fed and watered proper. If you go to the end of the stable, you'll see he is in the final stall. Good natured beast isn't he?" when speaking of the creature, his intimidating nature seemed to lift, and a he looked down the stables fondly.

"Very good-natured. Harver is a wonderful horse." Smiling widely at the man, suddenly unafraid of him, it seemed that before her very eyes he morphed into a friendly, caring man from the intimidating person she had initially taken him to be.

"Harver. I wouldn't have put him down as a Harver." There was a grainy chuckle erupting from the man's throat as he contemplated it.

"I did not name him, sir." She could not help but laugh lightly before nodding her thanks and proceeding to the horses stall. The other creatures sniffed her as she passed, some snorting pleasantly but she did not stop to see them. She wanted to see Harver, her handsome Harver.

Spotting him, she hurried over. He saw her and watched her approach, nuzzling into her shoulder when she reached him. Stroking his ear, delighted to see that he looked much healthier than he did when they came to Edoras, she began to tell him of the past few days. The horse was always a good listener. She didn't realise how much time had passed, she had pulled herself up onto the stall gate and was balancing herself as she spoke with Harver, patting his neck, running her fingers through his hair and enjoying the attentiveness of her listener.

Down the end of the stable she saw lady Éowyn wander in, greeting the stable boy as she made her way to one of the white mares. Noticing Therassa, she approached her as she remained upon the stall gate.

"Good afternoon, Lady Therassa. I did not expect to see you here." she was not as shy as she had appeared at the breakfast table. Perhaps the lack of other people made her more comfortable.

"Afternoon? Lunch has been and gone?" She asked, surprised by her ability to speak so much without being at all aware the amount of time passing.

Chuckling, Éowyn nodded "I am afraid so. Do not worry, dinner will be soon and although my poor uncle will still be unable to attend the meal it does not stop our large feasts to be ordered. The men of middle-earth all seem to have that in common, endless pits for stomachs." Laughing together, finally Therassa jumped down from her place. Harver snorted at her, upset as he thought she was leaving. Éowyn admired him, grinning, "Is this your horse?"

"Well technically, he was a borrowed horse but I assume he is sort of mine. This is Harver."

"He's beautiful."  
"He is, and he is also a very tolerant and kind listener. He let me ramble on for hours." The conversation was so effortless, Therassa was pleased that they were getting along magnificently; it was as though Boromirs prediction was accurate. The kings' niece was very different from the women of Minas Tirith, she was more open it seemed. There was a falseness of the female upper classes of Gondor that she despised. If Therassa was able to stay here, she knew she would have to guard her secret, guard her original title as Denethor's mistress, to avoid the cruel stares and unkind accusations.

After a few moments passed, Éowyn seemed to hesitate, opening her mouth to speak but deciding against it.

"What is it?" Therassa asked, observing her face.

"Oh, I didn't want to pry but I was going to ask what brought you and Lord Boromir here? You don't have to answer."  
"I'd rather not discuss that," she sighed, "that is for another time."

"Of course, just my curiosity getting the better of me, another time." And the subject was changed, suddenly the two were talking of everything, the kings' niece talking of her childhood and life in Rohan and Therassa shared her own history, stepping neatly over the time she spent warming the bed of Denethor. She also managed to avoid discussing the relationship between the stewards' eldest son and herself that had blossomed and evolved over the past few weeks.

At last, saying their goodbyes to Harver, they left the stable, stepping into the fresh air as the sun sat low in the sky. Therassa was truly amazed at how much she had to say, in Minas Tirith there had never been so much. She and Faramir spoke as often as they could but as she was generally forbidden to speak to him, there were many things she had experienced that had gone unsaid.

"Are you hungry, Therassa?" Éowyn asked as they made their way to the main royal buildings.

"I'm afraid so, I'm famished." Feeling at ease with her words, not concerned of how she spoke to her.

"Well I believe, dinner is to be served." And with that they went to the food halls eagerly, laughing together as they continued to tell their tales.


	13. Chapter 13

Éowyn and Therassa sat side by side, at end of the long table. The seats were taken quickly; no one seemed too bothered where they sat as long as they were able to eat. Therassa was once again beside the empty seat where the king should've been. This time she could not help but look at the chair, unnerved by the threating presence. It sparked memories that she longed to forget, she turned her body so that her back would be to it.

Boromir and Éomer came in later than most but found there were seats side by side at the other end. She could see Boromir from where she sat and for some reason knowing that he was in her sight, his handsome reassuring face their when she glanced over, made her feel at ease and overwhelmingly happy, her stomach fluttering.

As they began to eat, and the wine began to flow, Éowyn became very open about her life. She spoke softly, "Therassa, would you say we are friends?"

"I believe so," she smiled reassuringly to her, leaning her head in close, realising that whatever she wanted to say she wanted it to remain private.

"I can trust you?"

"Of course you can." Therassa watched as she took a sip of her wine, seeming to become gloomy. Finally after a few moments, the voices of those around them loud and the people ignoring them conveniently, Éowyn sighed, "I'm so lonely here. This realm, we humans are ruled by men. I am surrounded by men, none of whom ask for my hand in marriage or attract me in any way. I have no one else to speak to. I believe your arrival is quite the miracle, if you mean that we are friends, you have rescued me from a depression that was threatening to consume me." Therassa did not know what to say, looking at her friend in awe as she continued, "When my brother and I were young we would play together. Pretend sword fights, saving the kingdoms together, my uncle would encourage our fun.

"When both my parents were dead, he took us in and raised us as his own. We were close, my uncle and I and now he has fallen ill, my brother is preoccupied with his own jobs and I have been left. My uncles' advisor, Wormtongue, rarely lets me see him, telling me he is too sickly. I hate him, I do not trust him.

"But now you have arrived I can speak to someone, I am not alone, someone who understands that women can do more than what men believe. Did you know the elves treat one another as equals?" she seemed to be relieved and had brightened now that she had admitted to Therassa all her woes.

Nodding, she answered, "Yes, Faramir taught me that. He educates me in many of the things that Gandalf the wizard had taught him. They are both good men, I believe they saw potential in me… unlike most of Gondor." Both women seemed to feel liberated of their worries, great weights lifted from their shoulders. It was now that Therassa prayed even more that she was allowed to remain in Edoras.

"I would love to see these wonderful men, it has been years since I saw Faramir and I hardly remember him. And Gandalf? I wish he would come and repair the damaged Edoras. Heal my uncle of this mysterious sickness."

"He told me that he would meet me again, someday. I hold him by his word." Smiling at the fond memory of the men they spoke of Éowyn could not help but admire the woman for ever having known them.

Soon the conversation lightened and they laughed with one another through the rest of the meal. Glancing across the table, she caught Boromir watching her and when he saw that she saw him, he grinned captivatingly at her before turning his head back to the men beside him. It was he and Éomer who were much more preoccupied making it hard for others to cut in who were desperate to speak with the great warrior.

Boromir was watching her again when she looked over, near the end of the meal, and taking his gaze from her, he tilted his head towards his friend. Éomer seemed to protest jokingly and Boromir seemed to laugh as he stood, apologising and shaking his head. He looked back over to her and with a handsome smile, he jerked his head inconspicuously to the door and then made his way to it, leaving for the evening. Wanting her to follow with him, she waited a few minutes as to prevent any suspicions before excusing herself.

Éowyn nodded in agreement and said that she would retire to her bedchambers for the evening, the wine made her drowsy. Both women went to the door, the kings' niece stopping to bid her brother goodnight before stepping out of the hall. She left the other to walk to her quarters, knowing she would be safe and turned the opposite way, unsure where Boromir was.

It was not a long search as just along the corridor he emerged. Taking her wrist, he led her outside to the secluded, side of the building. Night had fallen and the air was cool and refreshing after the warmth of the hall with the fires burning and the people's body heat.

"My lord, why have you called me away to such a private place." She smirked, eyeing him suspiciously. There was no denying the light in his eyes that she had not seen much in Minas Tirith.

"Wonderful news, I spoke with Éomer and just as I knew all along, you are able to stay here. Théoden was not at all ailed by your company when we went and spoke to him. He sees nothing wrong with you being here. You can be a lady of Rohan." His eyes bright excited that the objective had been a success. Speechless, Therassa stood wide-eyed, amazed that she had finally done it. "Lady Therassa? Are you well?" He stroked her arm, tenderly waiting for her to respond.

"At last," she sighed, "I will never have to go back? I will no longer be judged for being a mistress?" he shook his head and she threw her arms around his neck, "Oh thank you Boromir, for everything. You have been my greatest support."

"I hate when you thank me," he murmured, pulling back from the embrace and watching her face intently. They grew silent, eyes locked upon one another.

They did not notice their heads lean in, their faces close. Within seconds, he took her face in his hands and kissed her with a fierce passion that made her legs weaken. Entwining her hands in his silky hair, holding her body close to his, their kiss was sweet and hard. Soon his hands roamed her body and grasping her hips he walked her back against the wall of the side of the building, trapping her there in his passionate embrace.

Both were experienced in these ways, both had had lovers in the past although Therassa despised her own. However, the emotions they felt were new to them. Neither had cared for the one they lay with, this experience was frightening, exciting and new.

Clothed and pressed hard against the wall, grinding his hips into her, her left leg hooked about his waist whilst he ran his hand up her thigh. They were lost in the moment and did not notice until the guard cleared his throat that they were not alone. Pushing himself away from her, Boromir looked the guard darkly in the eye as he watched amused.

Therassa straightened her dress, smoothing it down and stood awkwardly, waiting for him to say something so that they could leave. Finally Boromir muttered, "Keep this to yourself."

"With pleasure." Chuckled the guard as the warrior looked upon him with disdain as he passed him, she close behind him averting her eyes. Mouthing 'sorry', she followed Boromir. Embarrassed and amused by what had just happened, she hurried to his side and fell into his step.

Suddenly, she began to laugh. Holding his arm for support, leaning herself close to him as they walked, she could not stop the giggles. Boromir tried to hide his smirk and at one point snorted whilst trying to repress his handsome chuckles.

Walking her to her bed chambers, their laughter dying sown, the corridor silent, Boromir watched her as she opened the door. In the open doorway, she stood wondering what to say. He did not know either.

Therassa wasn't ready to leave him yet, yearning for his company for longer, feeling the overwhelming urge to hold him and be in his arms and never let go. Leaning in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips, cupping his cheeks with her hands, enjoying the feel of his facial hair upon her delicate skin, she regretted the gesture at once. She couldn't say goodbye now.

They both seemed to register this in the same moment and looking both ways to see if anyone was coming along the corridor, she took Boromirs hand and lead him into her room, nervously.


	14. Chapter 14

Boromir shut the door behind himself as Therassa moved to the other side of the room, she noticed that the servants had lit the fireplace, the room was warm and the orange flickering glow made the shadows dance upon the walls. Sliding her shoes from her feet into the corner of the room, she then made her way to stand before the fire, barefoot upon hard wood floors.

Glancing at Boromir who seemed to linger by the door, her gaze wandered over to the chair. There lay a new gown for the next day and her bag of belongings that she had carried along the journey from Gondor. A wave of relief overcame her, glad to know that the book Faramir had given her would be with her still. It was unusual how much a random book on elves could mean so much to her when given to her by a friend. Smiling to herself, she returned her attentions to the fire.

Boromir stepped closer to her, still keeping a respectful distance, watching her expectantly. Finally she spoke, "Do we want this?" her voice was low and soft. He shifted his weight, looking upon her admiringly by the fires glow.

When he did not make a sound she looked to him, wondering why. Seeing his examining gaze she said nothing, allowing the silence to continue. Finally he strode, slowly, towards her staring into her eyes. Leaving a step between them she asked again, "Do we?"

With a simple incline of his head, she knew that his answer was there's. If she had said no, he would've have left respectfully. Placing his hands gently on her hips, pulling her body to him to fill the space between them, he kissed her gently. Soft and sweet, tender and loving, it was so different from the desperate passions that seemed to take place a little time ago.

She nibbled upon his lip, slowly encouraging their mouths to widen and allow their tongues to explore the others. As the kiss deepened, her hands began to snake up his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck securely holding him in an intense vice. Their breathing became deeper, breathless, and erratic.

Her hands began to feel the strong chest more intimately, hard, muscular and broad. And as her hands travelled down she finally found the belt buckle which she undid easily. Parting from one anothers' kiss, he unfastened his tunic and slid it from him. She let the belt slide from her fingers and loosened the strings of his shirts.

Pulling it over his head, he stood bare chest before her. Taken back by the sturdy strength of the muscles, she touched his chest timidly, not used to feeling another man's body so intimately. Across his skin were cuts, some still mending. About his waist was a bandage. Instantly, she traced her fingers over it, her brow furrowing, realising the extent of his injuries. Looking upon his face, wanting to know what it was that was so sore that it had to be bound.

"Oh Boromir," she whispered, feeling the healing cuts across his body, the ones upon his face, his arms.

"Please Therassa, why must you always worry for me? I cannot stand it. They are healing, they do not hurt. I am not hurt." He took her hands between his and squeezed them tight, then placed gentle kisses upon the tips of her fingers. When she said nothing he did not let go but watched her affectionately. "My lady, Is this truly what you want?"

That question encouraged her thoughts to roam and so she began to remember what she was running from and who she was intending to lie with. How she wanted to hold him, take him into a passionate embrace. But she could not. He wanted her, but why? He was willing to touch what his loathsome father had touched. To take her, why would he? If it were her in his place, she would not be able to face herself, to be anywhere close to the whore who lay with blood. Perhaps he truly cared for her and these truths did not matter or maybe he just wanted someone, anyone as his father did.

"My lady?"

"Why do you want me? You tell me you care. How can you? I feel so befouled, so tainted. What makes it so easy for you to want me, knowing that I was the very slut who was made to bed your father almost every night? Boromir, why? I would not touch me. I could not…"

Dropping to her knees, sliding away from him, she hid her face as her voice faded and a hopeless whimper erupted from her broken form. Boromir, hurting as he saw her cry, crouched beside her, timidly wrapping an arm about her shoulders, wishing her to hush so that he did not have to hear her painful cries.

"What you were does not change who you are." He whispered, slowly as he tried to find words, "You are still Therassa, who I have been unable to stop thinking of ever since I met you." She seemed to become still as he said this, so he continued. "To know that my father was using you as a thing he could take when he pleased, a woman of such spirit did not deserve that and I felt guilty for allowing it to remain that way. Soon I became enraged by seeing you, feeling as though you had let it upon yourself, thinking that you were beginning to believe that his treatment was acceptable. Until that day I confronted you at the White Tree. Finally, all became understood and I wanted to protect you. I needed to protect you. The more we met to plan your escape with me, the more I spoke to you, had gotten to know you… the more I loved you. I could never hate you. Do not hate yourself; it was never your fault."

Giving an uneven sigh, she looked into his eyes, curiously, thankfully but her heart still aching and murmured, "'Love'?"

Boromir seemed taken aback but realisation dawned on him, recalling his words just moments ago. An embarrassed smile shone in his eyes and he averted them, "I do."

Wiping away the tears from her eyes, she placed a loving kiss upon his cheek, "And I you." she whispered as she hugged him, her lips beside his ear. The tingle as her warm breath tickled his skin sent a shiver down his spine. He grinned widely at her words and pulled back from the embrace to gaze upon her loving face, a sadness present in her eyes but a relief visible in her being.

Kissing his cheek again, she began to trail across to his lips, moulding hers to his in a desperate passion, needing him now, more than ever. Knowing he loved her made this moment perfect and desired.

Shifting to his knees so they kneeled before one another in front of the crackling fire, he placed his hands firmly upon her hips. Straddling his lap, she wrapped her arms about his neck, their kiss deepening. Slowly, his hands moved along her thigh and began to gather the fabric of her gown into his hands, lifting it, his fingers stroking her leg as the cloth went up. Raising herself slightly to free some of the fabric, he finally pulled the dress up over her head, she lifting her arms up as it slid over her body before returning them to his shoulders.

Casting the dress aside, he caressed her thigh, and hip, revelling in the touch of her skin as he stared at her naked body so close to him. Returning to kiss one another, her hands clinging to his back as the feel of his rough hands upon her tender skin sent excitement rippling through her being.

Throwing her head back, he planted kisses down her neck, upon her collar bone and down between her round, plump breasts. She moaned and longed for her lips to be pressed against his again.

Rocking forward, grasping her waist to steady her, he laid her back upon the hard, warm wooden floor. Kneeling before her, watching the orange glow light her every curve, his fingers caressing her stomach tenderly, he took in every detail of the woman he loved. Leaning down to kiss just above her belly button and working upwards to her neck again, holding her breasts in his hands and caressing the nipples, he felt they were ready.

Lifting his head to look upon her face, her eyes were shut delicately in pleasure until she felt his lips leave her skin. Her eyes said all he needed to know.

He removed his leggings, kicking them from his legs so that he was now bare. Running her hands along his chest, she seemed to fight not to flinch as she felt the healing wounds. At last, lifting her legs, locking his hips between her thighs, she felt him enter. Sinking into her slowly, holding her body close, her breasts upon his chest as Therassa and Boromir remained unmoving at first, adjusting to the feel of one another.

She wrapped her arms about him, her fingers pressed into his back as he placed his hand on one side of her to hold himself up so that his weight was not crushing her whilst the other held her hip for support. Kissing him softly told the warrior that she was ready.

He began to rock his hips back and forth, hers in time with his, grinding hard against him as the passion intensified. Repressing moans of pleasure and loving the deep groans rising from Boromir, Therassa held him even tighter, her nails digging into his skin as the pleasure claimed her body. It became harder and harder to control their cries of ecstasy as they made deep, passionate love, exhilarating and perfect, their skin moist with perspiration beside the flames of the fireplace

Therassa gasped as she climaxed, Boromir grunting seconds after as he finally came. Collapsing upon her, both of them breathless and indescribably happy, she ran a hand through his, now damp, long hair, a loving gesture that made him chuckle with delight. Neither could speak, enjoying the feel of one another's hot, elated bodies upon the others as they tried to regain their breath.

Finally he rolled off of her and instantly she missed his heat, his touch. Cuddling close beside him with a sigh of contentment, resting her head upon his chest as his arm curled about her shoulders, she was not willing to keep their bodies apart for long. She drifted off into a blissful sleep to the low, soft, pounding of his heart, still excited from their union.


	15. Chapter 15

Awaking drowsily, the room dim she realised that she lay in her bed. The sheets wrapped about her bare body and she was able to recall the wonderful evening she'd spent with Boromir. She turned her head to find him lying beside her in a deep, care free sleep, his face gentle. Pleased to know he remained by her side and impressed that he had carried her sleeping form to bed and chose to sleep beside her filled Therassa with a girlish excitement, knowing he was taking care of her.

She rolled onto her side to look at his face, her hand resting upon his chest. She ran her fingers up and down and came across the bandage again, reminding her of how close she came to losing him. Brow furrowing, she rested her head upon his shoulder and shut her eyes tight. Therassa knew she had to force away all the guilt and worry, fear and doubt from her thoughts. There was no use in torturing her mind with such things when that very moment was so wonderful. The contentment she had felt, needed to feel was such a rare occurrence that she once again punished herself for trying to ruin it. If Boromir knew of the mental torment she was facing, he would be angered by it. He had told her time and time again not blame herself, and yet she couldn't help it. She could not believe the words he murmured kindly to her, reassuring her or at least trying to.

At last, unable to force the thoughts away she decided to distract herself. Sliding as delicately from beneath the sheets as possible, trying to avoid disturbing Boromir from his deep slumber, she hurried to the chest at the end of the bed and retrieved a fresh night gown from within, sure that the maids had taken her one from the night before.

Pulling it on over her head she glanced about, noticing the fire still had potential life left in it. The log pile provided to keep the flames burning sat not far from the fireplace. Retrieving one, she placed it upon the embers and watched warily as it threatened to extinguish.

When it caught alight, a surprising brightness of the flames shining upon the room made her become conscious of waking Boromir. Peering over her shoulder she saw he lay peacefully and gave a sigh of relief. Turning her attentions to her belongings, she moved over to her bag and obtained the book Faramir had given her. This would be the perfect distraction and she'd been longing to continue studying the book.

Sitting beside the fire, using the light of the flames to brighten the pages, she began to read. Fascinated by what she was reading, she would leave it almost too long before the fire went out and had to move swiftly to retrieve a new log each time. A couple of hours passed and she remained engrossed, learning much about the races and lives she was so curious about.

Perhaps an hour before dawn Boromir stirred from his sleep, confused when he did not see Therassa beside him. The fire still burned strongly and as he sat up in the bed, he spotted her sitting cross-legged upon the floor, absorbed in the book that had been given to her by his brother not so long ago although it seemed months since he had last seen Faramir. In that moment, he realised he missed him and trying not to bury his head in his pillow wearily, he climbed from the bed, throwing back the sheets roughly. He had piled his clothes beside the chest after he had lay Therassa to bed and he went to this pile, pulling on his leggings.

It was then that she finally looked up from her book, with a curiosity on her face, seeming to forget she was not alone. Seeing him smiling down at her she beamed back, shutting the book and holding it to her chest, hugging it as he sat down opposite her, his arms resting on his knees.

"It's late," he whispered, his eyes squinting in the bright glow of the fire as he tried to wake up a little more.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, unbothered by the time but delighted just by talking to him.

"No, I slept enough for the night, more than I usually do." When her brows furrowed at this, prepared to ask him if he was well, he reassured her, "I am a restless sleeper, I have been for a few years. Right now, the least of my concerns is rest…" listening to him as he trailed off, watching the fire, she knew some of his worries and understood completely the restlessness he felt. He had spent years raising his brother, a job that Denethor should have taken upon himself as any good father would do. Now he worried about leaving Faramir behind with the Steward, she worried too. He was her closest friend and he was vulnerable. Denethor would be more displeased than ever that she ran away and with his favourite son absent he would take his pain and anger out upon Faramir.

Furthermore, Boromir was scared of the future, sleepless nights would ensue when he had concerns about Gondor, his people, the power and evil that was beginning to awaken in Mordor. Rivendell was where he had to be, to represent Gondor in the protection of Middle Earth and uncover more about the dark secrets and terrifying rumours that passed from mouth to mouth about the strange, malevolent goings on beyond Minas Tirith.

Absently, he prodded the bandage, absorbed in watching the flames. Therassa fought not to look upon his wounds, the cuts hurt her to see, reminding her of what she did not prevent. Deciding to look down at her lap, forcing herself to dismiss the thoughts threatening to take reign on her mind she said, "How are your wounds? Are you feeling better?"

A charming smirk, lightening the mood, spread across his face as he answered, "They are better… however, what took place last night would be against the healers orders." As Boromir chuckled at the fact that he had been far too active to the liking of the healers, she blushed, her shoulders shaking as she muffled a laugh, not wanting to encourage him.

Grinning fondly upon her, he asked casually, "Is your book interesting?"

"Incredibly. I'm fascinated by the elves; I wish I could go with you to Rivendell so I could meet them. And the equality amongst them, women and men receive the same respect, what happened to us, why have we followed such a strange path where men are superior?" excitement shone in her eyes, her posture changed as she spoke, showing Boromir all the love she had for books and to be able to share her thoughts and opinions without the fear and doubt. This was something that truly fascinated her. This energetic and passionate Therassa was who he loved, who he first met, who had become dormant in the services of his father but now, growing happier, was awaking into this greater being.

"I would take you with me if I thought it was safe to do so." Staring at her intently, sadly as she listened, accepting the truth, "You are safe here, you will like here I should think."  
"I am happy now, and grateful. I trust your judgement." Therassa sighed. The sadness in her eyes made his heart lurch and shuffling forward, he took her face between his hands, caressing her cheek with his thumb and leant in for a loving, tender kiss. She put the book aside gently and placed her hands over his, stroking his long fingers delicately as he held her affectionately.

Pulling back, he examined her face, his piercing eyes so caring and warm in their expression. She rested her forehead against his, not removing her hands, and closed her eyes with a sigh. They both knew he would leave and they would not be able to be with one another, robbed of their time together.

"Boromir," she murmured, remaining still, "What shall I do when we part?" he took a few moments to answer, before replying, his voice filled with sorrow, "You will live life as you wished it to be, you do not need me, you survived life in Gondor without my aid."

"I survived but you and your brother helped me." she sat back, taking his hands from her face and holding them between her own, "Your friendship kept me living."

"Éowyn, she is your friend."  
"Yes but the difference is that with she and Faramir… they are not you. I care for them greatly but they are not you."  
"Trust me Therassa, you shall survive. Friendship is rare in these times. Allies are what we seem to have, acquaintances. Allies are not friends; allies are trustworthy in war, when you fight on the same side with those same beliefs. But friends are trustworthy always; they remain by your side. Advise you, help you when you fall. Faramir is your friend. Éowyn sees you as her friend, she trusts you?" Therassa gave a nod and he continued on, "When we part, your friends will be there. Write to Faramir; beware of your identity in the message for I cannot know the reactions if they discover you are here. He will want to know of your safety. He has always admired you. Take care of your friends, we do not have many in this life and we do not want to lose the ones we have. You do not need me, you shall live." He smiled softly and kissed her again. His words raised her spirits and in that moment her love grew and her respect for the warrior so wise and courageous increased.

He brought her to her feet and embraced her, a loving and reassuring hug that made her long to remain in his arms. And with another sweet, kiss, sensual and passionate they went to bed. They made love again and as the sun rose, Boromir said goodbye to Therassa, dressing and returning to his own chambers.

Neither slept another wink, too busy thinking of one another and the future that lay ahead.

OOOoOOO

During breakfast, the two sat at opposite ends of the table again, Boromir with Éomer and she with Éowyn with whom they chatted and gossiped away pleasantly. Both seemed able to maintain nonchalance towards the previous night before although they despised the time they were spending apart already and the secrets they had to keep.

After breakfast, Therassa visited Harver in his stables whilst Éowyn went to see her uncle who still seemed unwell so was not allowed out of his chambers until he had regained some strength. Her friend told her that when her uncle was better, she would introduce the two. However, they were unsure of when that would be for he seemed to show little sign of improving.

Harver listened to her about her life, avoiding details but filling him in on the basics. The beast, she believed, would be the only thing that would listen to her. Therassa, like most people, seemed to forget about certain people who were always trustworthy and willing to listen. As she told the horse all her voice was hushed, wary of prying ears. Seeming to approve of the relationship of Boromir and Therassa, Harver whinnied although she was not entirely certain if it had anything to do with her news but rather that he wanted more grain that she, he believed, hadn't given him enough of.

With that visit completed, she wandered the courtyard until Éowyn came hurrying over to her. The first thing that she asked her friend was, "How is your uncle today?"

"Not much better, his spirits were low and that does no good for his recovery from this peculiar sickness." Éowyn sighed as she walked beside her friend, the two beginning their stroll about the grounds.

"Do not fret, my friend, he will be fine. Never lose hope in that." Therassa glanced at the other woman as she nodded down-heartedly. They walked in complete silence but not awkward, a few minutes passed, their minds were beginning to wander when the kings niece abruptly asked, "What are the relations between you and Boromir?"

Startled by the question, Therassa came to a halt, open-mouthed, lost for a way to reply. Éowyn continued, stumbling upon her words, regretting asking and allowing her curiosity to show, "I am sorry, but you se- well, the two of you are rather close an- the way you look at him and he at you- sorry."

"No, no, it is all well. It seems as though we could not hide our affections so it is only fair for someone to notice and bring it about in conversation. Although I did believe we were more conspicuous than that." Therassa finally said avoiding eye contact, embarrassed that she'd been caught out.

"I am sorry, I should not pry, I really shouldn't but I do not know what comes over me…"

"We all suffer from curiosity, I am glad you seek answers. Well, Boromir and I," turning her head to look upon her friend she sighed, "well it seems that we both feel the same way about one another, care for one another dearly although we were to reveal it all too late. He will go away soon…"

Éowyn listened with understanding, her brow knotted together as she saw the pain on her friends face, "I am sorry Lady Therassa, but what a wonderful thing to have. Surely him going away will not change your affections. Boromir is a good man, you are fortunate to have him care so greatly."

In that moment, Therassa knew she had to tell Éowyn all, this friend who she had known a little time but showed respect and genuine concern. She needed her to know, if they did not remain friends after then she would lose nothing for a good friend would stay. She simply hoped that the word did not spread. Taking her friends hand she hurried them to the nearest bench and said in a hushed voice, her voice stern, "Éowyn, I must tell you the truth of my presence here, why Boromir brought me to Edoras. I trust you to understand, please understand. You must not tell another soul, I only want you to know." And she began her story; Éowyn remained silent, taken by surprise at the truth she would never have guessed.

It was an hour or more before she came to the end of her story. There was a moment of reflection on the revelation before the kings' niece could finally speak, "What you went through, I am sorry. Your secret is safe with me and I am glad you have escaped to here. We will not allow anyone to hurt you."

Éowyn finished with a kind smile Therassa could only return it and pulling her friend into a hug she sighed, "You are a good friend."

OOOoOOO

At dinner, Éomer and Boromir strolled in; a grave expression upon the latter's face. The women watched them, unnerved by his dark looks and when he caught Therassas' gaze, he was unable to hold it, glancing down at his feet as he made his way to his seat. Éomer remained standing, calling the attention of the room. Therassa felt a wrenching pain in her stomach as the room grew quiet.

"My friends, I bare disappointing news. Our welcome guest, Boromir of Gondor will be expected to leave tomorrow. We shall make his last night in Edoras an enjoyable one, do you not think!" and with that they all cheered. Boromir smiled modestly but it did not meet his eyes. Éowyn and Therassa remained silent. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she watched him, disbelief and heartbreak consuming her. When the warrior looked over to her at last, reluctantly, he saw distraught her face and frowned. It took her a moment before she mouthed to him, unable to look away from, trying to understand by studying his expression, "So soon?"

With a gentle incline of his head, he replied, "I'm sorry."

And they did not communicate further as he was drawn into conversation with the men of the higher courts. He occasionally glanced over her way and she his way but neither was able to hold eye contact. Therassa lost some of her appetite, incapable of eating much as her thoughts dwelled on tomorrow. Éowyn placed a supportive hand on her arm but could not say anything of reassurance, resorting to chatting away casually to her, wanting to help distract her mind for a while. She was grateful for her efforts but they did not help. Boromir would leave sooner than expected and she still did not feel ready to say goodbye.


End file.
